Neckerchief Chronicles
by caldera32
Summary: If it had been a different Arthur he may have been able to appreciate that Merlin's neckerchief was simply his equivalent of a towel. (Or, a collection of shorts exhibiting the many uses of a certain warlock's neck wear. No Slash)
1. Snap To

Arthur sat up in bed, staring at his manservant.  
Something was different, something he couldn't quite place his finger on.

Had he cut his hair?  
_What a girlish thought._  
No, that wasn't it.

New clothes?  
No, he was wearing the same things he always did: brown jacket, trousers, blue tunic, and that ridiculous-  
Wait, no, the neckerchief wasn't there.

Should he even ask?  
Honestly he was a bit curious.

The king cleared his throat.  
"Merlin?"

The servant turned to him with an inquisitive look.  
"Yes?"

"What happened to your neckerchief?"

Merlin glanced down as if to assure himself that said garment was actually absent.  
"Nothing's happened to it, I'm simply not wearing it."

"Ah."  
The young man continued folding Arthur's laundry as if he hadn't a care in the world.

Normally he would have just let it go, but for some reason he just _had_ to know.  
"Any particular reason _why_ you're not wearing it?"

Merlin regarded the blond as if he had just proclaimed his secret love of drinking mead through his nose.  
"Does there have to be? I really don't see why this is such a big deal, Sire."

Arthur was undeterred.  
"It's just that- well, you're _always_ wearing the ratty things. Even at my wedding! I assumed they held some sort of meaning to you or something."

The idiot snorted at him. _Snorted!_  
"Been watching my wardrobe that closely, have you?"

He plowed on before Arthur could object.  
"I don't _always_ wear one, only most of the time. It's simply a matter of practicality, really."

He paused briefly to place a stack of garments in the cupboard.  
"I took it off on the way here because it was a bit too hot."

"What on earth is practical about those shabby pieces of cloth?"

"Oh you'd be surprised- let me give you a demonstration."  
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a red scarf before plunging it into the nearby pitcher of water.

Arthur looked on in confusion as his friend twirled the cloth into a sort of rope, then yelped as Merlin performed a deft wrist maneuver and snapped the wet material into the king's unprotected chest.

"Merlin!" He yelled indignantly, massaging the stinging skin.

"If you had gotten out of bed when I woke you you would've been able to avoid that."  
The servant said without apology.  
"Now get up and get some work done."

And with that the servant turned and ran out the door, narrowly avoiding the pitcher that was thrown after him.


	2. Sling

A/N: Just re-watched the season 4 blooper reel. Best part?  
"Do you know what this is?" … "A dead one of those!"

* * *

Arthur let out a rather un-kingly cry as he fell from his spooked horse, immediately clutching his left arm and beginning to roll about on the forest floor.

Merlin was by his side in an instant, looking his friend over with a practiced eye.  
"Nothing's broken, but you've dislocated your shoulder. Lie still and I'll take care of it."

The king looked up at his servant, somewhat taken aback by his brisk efficiency.

Gently grasping the affected limb, the physician's ward bent it to a right angle and rotated it to form an 'L' across his patient's chest.

"Alright, now hold your upper arm still."  
He instructed, placing Arthur's right hand over his left bicep.

Seeing that the prat was doing as he was told for once, Merlin proceeded to form the weakened left hand into a fist.  
He gave the king a measuring glance before untying his neckerchief and folding it into a small, tight rectangle.

"This is going to hurt- bite onto this."

Arthur turned his head away, refusing the cloth.  
"I'm not a _child_, Merlin. I can handle a little pain. Besides, I know where that thing's been and there's no way I'll allow that in my mouth."

The servant rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation.  
"Would you rather I found a nice muddy stick for you?"

The royal looked as if he were seriously considering this option.

"Well too bad."

Arthur grumbled angrily and unintelligibly as Merlin forced the scarf between his teeth.

"Don't make me sit on you."

The blond made a face that said what he thought of the probable effectiveness of such a move, but apparently decided to just put up with the idiot and settled down.

"Alright, here we go."  
He slowly turned the forearm until it was perpendicular to the ground.

Being Gaius' apprentice (more or less), Merlin was well acquainted with the likely reaction to what he was doing and so was well out of the way as Arthur's legs began to kick in response to the pain.

He was also well aware that this would likely have to be done more than once and, not willing to put up with any more garbled protests, he looked away just as he moved the arm past the 90 degree angle and ensured the shoulder popped back into place with a flash of his eyes.

The relief was immediate and Arthur relaxed noticeably, taking a moment to just lie on the ground in relative comfort as Merlin placed the arm back across his chest.

Reclaiming his neckerchief, the manservant shook it out and began arranging it into a sling.

Divining his intentions, a look of revulsion spread across the king's features.  
"Merlin, that was just in my mouth."

"You don't need to remind me, Sire, I can see the drool myself- I'll be cleaning this very thoroughly when we get back to Camelot."

"It is not 'drool'" the blond huffed "I refuse to wear that- find something else!"

"Like what, your pratliness?"

"I don't know- cut up your shirt or something."

Merlin, in a calculated move, raised an eyebrow at his friend.  
"Are you saying you want to see me shirtless?"

Arthur gaped at him, then spluttered "Of course not _Mer_lin! Fine! Use the stupid scarf!"

The manservant smirked.  
He may have felt guilty about manipulating his King, but as a peasant he really didn't have very many shirts.

That task accomplished, Merlin stood and offered Arthur a hand up.

"Merlin-"

He turned, foolishly expecting some praise for his efforts.

"Where are the horses?"


	3. Redbeard the Terrible

Merlin was strolling through the lower town, taking his time with an errand for Gaius, when he heard childish voices raised in argument.

"Why do _I_ have to be the bandit? You always get to be the knight!"

"Nuh-uh, you were the knight _last _time!"

"Was not!"

"Were too!"

The manservant grinned to himself, an idea popping into his head.  
He pulled his neckerchief up, securing it around his chin, then jumped out in front of the children.

"And what have we here? A couple knights of the realm out chasing villains?"  
He said in his best impression of a scary, but not _too_ threatening brigand (they were only children after all).

The pair looked a bit confused, so Merlin continued.

"I am Redbeard the Terrible! And you'll never take me alive!"  
He shouted, grabbing a nearby stick and brandishing it like a sword.

The two kids, who already had wooden swords of their own, caught onto the game and grinned widely.

"Have at you knave!"  
The blond one cried, leaping forward weapon-first.

Merlin was rather impressed, both by the boy's vocabulary and his technique.  
Still, no matter how poor his own skill with a sword, he _was _nearly twice the boy's size and quickly disarmed him.  
Advancing on the would-be warrior, the servant reached out and tickled him mercilessly.

"I'll teach you to come into my territory!"  
He cackled as the boy twisted in his grasp, his giggles gaining amused looks from passerby.

"Leave him alone!"  
His dark-haired friend called bravely, braining Merlin with his imitation blade.

The pretend bandit winced- children rarely understood the concept of holding back one's strength.

"You dare to challenge me?"  
He roared, spinning around and grabbing the second child in a headlock before giving him a vicious noogie.

"I'll get you for that!"  
The blond yelled, jumping onto Merlin's back.

The three wrestled about on the ground for a while, shouting and gales of laughter filling the air as they tussled.

Before too long the fearsome bandit was 'subdued' by his two foes, and found himself tied up with a rope made of rags.

"Now tell us your secrets!"  
The blond one yelled, pointing his wooden sword at his captive.

"Yeah! Why is your beard red when your hair is dark?"  
The other added, also keeping his eye on the prisoner.

The neckerchief had long since fallen back down around Merlin's neck, but he decided to keep up the ruse.

"I dye it with the blood of my enemies!"  
He replied in an overly-dramatic tone.

The two boys looked moderately impressed with this proclamation.

"Alright bandit, where do you keep your loot?"  
The black haired 'knight' demanded.

"I'll never tell!"  
Merlin shouted.

"Oh we'll see about that."  
The blond replied darkly as the two children advanced on their prey, hands outstretched.

And so it was that Gwaine, on his way to the tavern, found his best friend being tickled breathless by a pair of pitiless youngsters- and walked right on by.


	4. Therapy Pillow

Merlin had been in Camelot's dungeon plenty of times before, both as a 'guest' and as a visitor, so he was pretty familiar with the various cells.

Arthur must be especially annoyed this time because the guards put him in the farthest cell.  
None of the cells were nice, but this one was particularly bad.

It was the coldest cell for one thing, especially since it had no blanket- something that wasn't too surprising since it also had no bed.  
In fact all it had was a bit of straw (and that was a new addition since the last time he'd been here).

Sighing to himself, Merlin gathered the meager bedding and settled in for a well-deserved rest.  
In a stroke of (what he considered to be) genius he created a pillow by removing his neckerchief, folding it in half, and filling it with straw.  
Normally he would have just used his jacket, but that was needed to compensate for the lack of blanket.

Face buried in his makeshift pillow, Merlin inhaled the scent of the fabric and its stuffing.

This specific neckerchief had been given him by his mother fairly recently and it still held a hint of her scent.  
Nostalgia overcame him and he grinned.

Sleeping on the floor with only a bit of straw, Hunith's soothingly earthy aroma wafting into his nose, Merlin drifted off with a gently smiling face that belonged to a much younger version of himself.

When Arthur came to fetch him the next morning he was still sleeping happily.

Even after the king's surly "Wake up, _Mer_lin" his only reply was "Five more minutes, mother" as he buried his face further into the blue cloth.


	5. Prometheus

A/N: _Merlin_ tonight! It looks like such an awesome episode- I usually watch on Sunday after work but I don't think I'll be able to wait this time!

I debated continuing this one but decided it's better as is, thoughts?

* * *

Not for the first time Merlin wondered how it so often came down to this: just himself and Arthur facing off against a deadly magical beast.  
Was he the one that attracted all the negative attention?  
No, it had to be Arthur- after all, he was a prat while Merlin was a very likeable person.

Whatever the case, the two of them were now separated from the rest of the patrol and were standing in front of a cave where said deadly magical beast had recently taken refuge.

"Well, staring won't achieve anything. Let's go Merlin."  
The king started forward, sword at the ready.

"You can't be serious."  
The manservant stated flatly.

"Don't be such a girl's petticoat, Merlin. The sooner we slay the beast the less damage it can do."

"That's all well and good but we don't even have a torch and as I've told you before: I don't want to die horribly. That thing has _tentacles_, Arthur, tentacles!"

"And I suppose you have a better idea then?"

"Several, actually, but I know you won't be persuaded to at least wait for reinforcements- so just one."  
Picking up a handy branch he pointed it at his master.  
"Just wait here a moment."

Arthur watched in confusion as his servant backtracked along their trail, disappearing for only a brief time before returning with a flaming torch.

"And _where_ did you get _that_?"  
The royal asked, using his best 'prat voice' to disguise the fact that he was slightly impressed.

"We passed a peat bog on the way here, so I just collected some moss and made a torch with that and my neckerchief. We'd better hurry- it won't last long without any pitch to burn."

"Wonders never cease" Arthur said, shaking his head as he once again strode forward into the inky blackness of the cave with Merlin close behind.


	6. Inner Child

A/N: I'm in the mood to read a scar reveal fic, but I can't seem to find any I haven't already read.  
*Sigh* First world problems...

Just a note: this occurs pre-series 5 ('current' Merlin would probably suspect a sudden snowfall of being an attack by Morgana).

* * *

It was a rare day in Camelot, not only had Merlin woken up early but he had also glanced out the window only to find the city draped with a generous layer of snow.

Having grown up a peasant in Ealdor the servant was well-acquainted with cold winters, but snow was something rare in most of Albion- he had probably only seen it twice before.  
There was quite a lot of it, almost reaching his knees as he fought his way across the courtyard on his way to wake his master.

Feeling thoughtful, Merlin spoke the fire into roaring fullness before flinging open the curtains with his usual "Rise and Shine!"

Arthur blinked at him blearily.  
"Merlin, why are your trousers wet?"

The servant looked down as if he hadn't noticed the way his pants were clinging to his chilled calves.  
"From the snow- it's really deep. I don't think having training today would be a good idea" he said with false disappointment.

The king rolled out of bed and surveyed the courtyard, the pure white expanse now crisscrossed with the stumbling trails of servants going about their duties.  
"On the contrary, I think this is the perfect opportunity for a very _special_ military exercise."

The royal's gleeful smile made Merlin distinctly uncomfortable.  
"Sire?" He asked uncertainly.

"While I'm eating my breakfast you will gather the knights and instruct them to meet in the courtyard for training- no armor, no weapons."

"O-kay..." the servant was still confused but it was clear he would be receiving no further explanation so he set about completing his tasks.

* * *

A lot of grumbling later and a cluster of knights were huddling under their cloaks in the courtyard, not entirely awake and completely bewildered.

Arthur was standing proudly in front of them, warm in his own fur-lined version of the traditional knight's cloak.  
"Good morning, men!"

His only response was some grumbling and shuffling of cold feet.

"Today we have been presented with an excellent opportunity for special training!"  
He spread his arms wide to indicate the snowy surround.

"I'll be splitting you into two teams- each team will be responsible for building a fortress and defending it. The first team to destroy their opponent's stronghold will be declared the winner."

He gazed at his men, who seemed to be understanding where this was going.

"Keep in mind that castle staff will still need to cross the 'battlefield'- anyone who attacks an innocent will be disqualified. Anyone hit in a vital location will be considered dead."

"Sire."

"Yes, Sir Leon?"

"Am I correct in thinking that we are having a snowball fight?"  
He was so sincerely quizzical and straightforward in his question that Merlin had to bite back a chuckle.

"Whatever makes you say that, Leon? I believe I clearly said this is a military exercise."

"Actually, Sire, you called it-"

"Shut up Merlin."

The servant did so, mostly because he was having increasing difficulty holding in his laughter.

Arthur was quick to divide the knights into equal teams and Merlin felt the gleam in his master's eye looked rather vengeful when he placed his servant on the team opposing his own.

Both sides set to forming blocks out of the snow, refraining from attacking by silent agreement until both fortresses were complete with the proud defenders of Camelot crowded behind the frigid walls.

"Attack!" Arthur shouted, hurling an over-sized snowball where Merlin's head had been peeking above the wall only moments before.

Chaos erupted with icy balls flying back and forth with near-deadly force.

Men were falling left and right, faces full of white or tell-tale splatters covering their chests.

The 'dead' knights moved off to the side and busied themselves calling out those who hit the few brave servants trying to traverse the courtyard along with those who tried to keep fighting after 'dying'.

Merlin was having a fine time of it.  
He had removed his neckerchief and was using it as a sling to hurl snowballs with sensational accuracy- Arthur could hardly believe what he was seeing.

Little did he know that Merlin had grown up using a simple sling to bring in small game for himself and his mother to eat.  
It was the perfect peasant's weapon, really: cheap and easy to make with free ammunition lying about everywhere.

So the contest progressed until it was only Arthur and Merlin left facing off against each other, which was rather interesting since the king had been aiming at his servant almost exclusively from the very beginning.

At least, it was interesting to anyone who didn't know Merlin had been cheating, aware that his eyes barely glowed when he performed that particular type of small magic.

"Give up now, Merlin, and I _won't_ make you muck out the stables every day for a month."  
Arthur shouted from behind his crumbling white wall.

"You need to work on your negotiating skills, _Sire_."  
The servant replied, hurling a particularly large ball that took a couple feet off the opposing wall's height just above the king's crouched position.  
"At least offer something believable."

The round table knights, Gwaine in particular, were hooting in amusement at the back and forth they'd grown so accustomed to (both the physical and verbal).

"So help me Merlin if you do not yield this instant I will have George lecture you on the appropriate conduct for a servant _while_ you clean Gaius' leech tank."

The servant paled. _He wouldn't..._

"_And_ the only food you'll get for a week will be cook's infamous dumplings!"

"That's hardly chivalrous of you Sire, abusing your power like that!"  
He shouted back, dreading those dumplings- he'd rather starve.

"A knight uses any weapon he has to ensure victory!"  
Arthur retorted.  
"We'll go hunting every week for a month! I'll make you sleep standing up in my antechamber like a proper servant! I'll-!"

"Alright!"  
Merlin yelped, waving his neckerchief to indicate his defeat.

"Can you not even surrender correctly _Mer_lin? It's supposed to be a _white_ flag- you're dishonoring the noble colors of Camelot by using your tatty red scarf!"

"You didn't seem to have any problem using one of them as a napkin after the last feast ended in a food fight!"

"Like all good feasts!" Gwaine added with a huge grin.

"Just shut up Merlin so I can enjoy my victory."

Giving in to his fate the servant sat and grumbled to himself as Arthur strutted over and kicked down what remained of the offending snow fort before dumping an armload of snow on the defeated warlock.

Turning to his men with a Cheshire grin of his own, Arthur dismissed them all.  
"You've done well! Now go inside and have a hot bath before you all catch a cold. Merlin, you'll have mine ready by the time I get there, I trust?"  
He strode off without waiting for an answer.

"Prat."  
A now thoroughly-soaked Merlin said, struggling out of the impromptu snowbank that had formed around him.

* * *

Having rushed to the king's chambers and 'expedited' the water-heating process, Merlin now waited for said prat to arrive; shivering although he was standing as close to the fireplace as was safe.

"Ah, Merlin, there you are."  
Arthur said as he swept through the door.

_Where else would I be?_ Thought Merlin.  
"Your bath, Sire" he said instead, bowing slightly and gesturing toward the steaming tub.

The king eyed him as if a third arm had just popped out of the servant's chest and slapped him in the face.  
"You do realize I'm _not_ going to make you listen to George or any of those other things I mentioned..."

"Thank God for small favors" the servant mumbled.

"What was that?"

"I said 'take off those wet trousers'. Wouldn't want you falling ill."

Arthur eyed him suspiciously, but apparently decided to let it slide.  
"Better take your own advice, Merlin, you look like a half-drowned rat."

Considering for a moment he revised his statement.  
"A half-starved, half-drowned rat."

"Very well, I'll return later with your lunch."  
He turned to go but was stopped by a hand on his arm.

"Take this."  
Arthur said, awkwardly shoving a folded piece of muslin in his general direction.

"What's this?"  
Merlin asked with a sly smile.

"Well, it isn't quite white, but it'll serve for the next time you need to proclaim your inferiority in the face of my overwhelming might."

He hesitated a moment before continuing softly.  
"And you did burn one for the sake of Camelot recently- it's only right that I replace it."

The servant looked down at the cloth in his hand, his new neckerchief, and was oddly touched.

Arthur seemed to find the silence uncomfortable.  
"I can have it dyed if you like, whatever color you want."

"No, this is fine just as it is."  
Merlin smiled.  
"Thank you, Arthur."

_Besides, it'll probably be sacrificed within the week one way or another._


	7. Ague

A/N: DID YOU SEE THE NEW EPISODE?  
That was so awesome! And it was great to see Merlin's compassionate side again :)  
Why does having another traitor in the castle seem to make Merlin _more _relaxed? *shrugs*  
Anyway, I think "The Hollow Queen" may be my new favorite episode.

* * *

Merlin awoke cold and sore.  
_What else is new?_  
He grumbled internally, stumbling about his room and throwing on whatever clothing came to hand resulting in a completely red ensemble- red tunic, red neckerchief, red jacket.

Far beyond caring about color choices, he grabbed a bit of bread and cheese off the table on his way out with only a harried "good morning" to Gaius.

Even after yesterday's heavy snowfall Arthur wanted to go out early to hunt.  
_Stupid prat._

Any time the morning started earlier than usual Merlin made sure to have the king's breakfast ready to lessen the time he spent hungry and cranky (resulting in fewer things being thrown at his servant).  
While in the kitchen he also asked the cook to prepare rations for their two-day hunting trip and sent another servant to have two horses prepared.  
Delegation was a beautiful thing- sometimes it really wasn't bad being the king's servant.  
He normally did the work himself, but he was just so _tired_ this morning.  
Maybe a day away from his usual duties would actually do some good.

Carefully balancing the tray of food, he entered Arthur's chambers and began tidying the place up; stoking the fire and setting out clothing for the day before opening the curtains and waking the blond.  
Even if Arthur had been awake he probably wouldn't have noticed the wince that was quickly wiped from that pale face as the faint light leaked into the room.

The royal merely grunted in protest and burrowed into his covers.

"Come on Sire, if I have to get up early to wake you the least you can do is actually get out of bed yourself."

The only reply was a pillow to the face.

"I'll drag you out- you know I will."

Moaning loudly, the king finally sat up and placed his feet on the floor, grumbling about the cold stone.

"Now let's get you dressed and then you can have your breakfast. Cook is taking care of the rations, the horses should be ready by the time you've finished, and I'll pack your bags while you eat."

Arthur looked at him grumpily.  
"Who are you and what have you done with Merlin?"

"Very funny Arthur, now you can either work with me or dress yourself."

The king huffed and then stuck his arms out so the servant could feed them through the sleeves of his shirt.

The rest of the preparations passed with Arthur in dour silence as he slowly woke, Merlin not seeing fit to break the relative peacefulness.

* * *

"Have you prepared my weapons, Merlin?"  
They were in public now- on their way to the stables- so the servant made an effort to be (comparatively) polite.

"Of course, Sire. I checked them over last night. They should be with the horses."

Waking Arthur had taken so long the horses were actually waiting for them in the courtyard, already laden with hunting gear and rations.

They mounted and rode out, both remaining quiet as they headed for the woods: Arthur because he was still feeling surly in the early morning, Merlin because he was developing a sore throat and a headache that had been building since he first let the light of false dawn into the royal chambers.

They hadn't made it far when the mighty hunter spotted his first prey, a hare that had wandered out of the safety of the undergrowth.

Merlin handed over a loaded crossbow and tried to remain silent while Arthur took aim- an effort that failed spectacularly as the hapless servant let out an explosive sneeze.

The bolt went sailing ineffectually into the distance as the hare took off quicker than thought.

The royal rounded on his servant, intent on chewing him out before he saw the man massaging his chest as if in pain, face screwed up in discomfort.

"Are you all right?"  
He asked rather more gently than he had intended.

Merlin looked up as if he had forgotten anyone else was present.  
"Yeah, just a bit sore from yesterday, I suppose. Maybe a bit of a cold."

Arthur wasn't convinced, but there was little he could do if the idiot insisted on putting up a brave front.  
Well, little he could do without appearing to actually _care_ for the fool.

Merlin, meanwhile, was downright miserable.  
His chest hurt, he ached all over, his head was pounding, throat scratchy, and above all he just felt so _weak_.

He had been exhausted many times in his life, especially since coming to Camelot and being pulled every which way by his various duties, but this was just so _sudden_.

_Maybe it's more than a cold._  
He thought ruefully to himself.

_Well, no sense in whining about it now- it would probably just make the prat more stubborn about staying out anyway._  
He clucked to his horse, nudging it forward to catch up to Arthur's.

* * *

The rest of the day passed in much the same way, though Merlin managed to keep most of his sneezes confined to his jacket sleeve, and they made camp rather earlier than they usually did.

The only thing Arthur had to show for his efforts was a single red squirrel he had shot more out of frustration than anything else. (The animals had been scarce, clearly possessing more sense than the two humans traipsing about in the winter wonderland.)

Noticing that his servant seemed to be increasingly miserable throughout the day- even more than was normal during their hunting expeditions- the royal announced that he would take first watch, making sure to keep the fire going all night.

Merlin had neither the strength nor the inclination to argue and collapsed into his bedroll immediately after finishing his rations, leaving the dishes for the morning.

The king watched him worriedly, having already decided they would be heading back home first thing in the morning.  
He sat in the dark, listening to his companion's pained breathing until he drifted unwillingly into sleep.

* * *

Waking with a start, Arthur leapt to his feet and surveyed his surroundings.  
Merlin must have woken sometime after he had fallen asleep, as he had been laid out on his bedroll and tucked under a couple of blankets through no effort of his own.

So where was his servant now?  
The warrior in him was on high alert.  
The fire was low, perhaps he had gone to fetch more wood?

Moving over to Merlin's bed he found the other man's boot prints and followed them back out into the woods, a feeling of foreboding stealing over him.

The sun was slipping over the horizon but inside the woods the light was still dim and grey, reflecting off the omnipresent snow to baffle the king's eyesight.  
Tracking the servant would have been simple despite these facts if he hadn't chosen to follow the trail blazed by their horses during the previous day- a sound choice, but one Arthur could hardly appreciate at this point as he tried to pick out the tall man's prints.

Despite his niggling feeling of anxiety, the royal was about to call out in desperation when he saw a flash of red up ahead.

Clamping down his rising feelings he surged forward and snatched the fabric from where it had caught on a branch- it was part of Merlin's neckerchief, he was somehow sure of it.

Arthur cast about for any signs of life, spinning on the spot before looking up, more in supplication than in hopes of finding anything- only to spot another patch of red high up in the tree.

_Thank God for that red coat._  
The blond thought.  
If it had been the brown and blue ensemble the other man would have blended into the tree in this poor light.

"Merlin!" He called, pitching his voice as low as he dared in case of nearby threats (surely he had climbed the tree for a reason).

"Will!" The man called with childish glee, making no attempt to keep his voice down.  
"I can see Old Man Simmons' house from here! I think we should cut down this one, it'll keep us warm all winter!"

_What? Will?_  
With a rare flash of insight, Arthur realized what was going on.  
_He's hallucinating. My word, he must be burning up._

"Merlin, you need to come down so we can get you to Gaius- you're hallucinating."

Reason rarely works on people who are out of their mind with fever, as proved to be the case with Merlin.

"You can't fool me with that, Will. Remember that time you convinced me I was dreaming and tricked me into kissing Maryellen? Never happening again."  
Merlin's voice was raspy and he was swaying on the tree limb, but his tone was firm.

Clearly the king would have to play along or he wouldn't get anywhere.  
A pained expression on his face, Arthur called up once more.  
"Merlin, your mother is calling for you. You need to come down from there."

The servant looked suspicious, but he never could deny his mother so he relented and began descending from his wooden perch.

The king watched with heart in throat, holding his breath every time the man missed a foothold.  
It wasn't until Merlin was only a few feet overhead that his strength gave out and he fell into Arthur's waiting arms, whether unconscious or asleep he couldn't tell.  
The man was shaking so hard it was amazing his bones couldn't be heard knocking together.

Rushing back to the camp, the king settled his servant into his own relatively warm bedroll, adding Merlin's as well as both sets of blankets.  
Turning to the fire he found it barely alight and began scanning the trees around him, spotting one that seemed to be mostly dead.

He tore a thin branch from the tree, adrenaline making it an easy task, and broke it into smaller pieces to feed to the dying flames.

Fire built up and flurry of activity over, Arthur began to realize he really didn't know what to do.

"Okay, what next?" He asked as if the answer would just fall out of the sky.

Actually it came from the ground, a few feet away from him.  
"S-snow."

"Merlin!"  
He knelt at his friend's side, leaning close to hear him better.

"S-s... snow" the servant repeated, still shivering.

"What about the snow, Merlin?"  
Arthur asked, worried another delusion was beginning.

"Make a c-compress... he-ere" he stuck an arm out from the layers of blankets, proffering his neckerchief.

"But you're so cold, won't this make it worse?"

Merlin shook his head weakly.  
"Need to lo-wer the... fever."

"Right" Arthur nodded, scooping snow into the unfolded fabric and tying it into a chilly bundle.  
He turned back to Merlin only to find the man had passed out once again.

"I'm getting you to Gaius" he announced.  
In hindsight he probably should have done that from the beginning- isn't that what he normally did?

He tore down the camp quickly; stamping out the fire, leaving the dishes, and keeping the bedding wrapped around his feverish manservant.

_Why does everything become more difficult when Merlin is involved?_  
Arthur considered this as he secured Merlin's horse to his own and hefted the servant into the saddle before climbing up behind him.

_Merlin's idiocy must be catching._  
He concluded.  
It _certainly_ wasn't because he _cared_ for the dollophead.

Clasping the fuzzy body to his own, Arthur pressed the snow-filled neckerchief to Merlin's pale forehead, trying to ignore the mumbled protests coming from within the blanket cocoon.

"Idiot. 'Maybe a bit of a cold' you said. Why can you never speak up about the important things?"  
He sighed, then urged his horse forward with his voice; guiding its progress with his knees.

"Time to go home."


	8. Fired

A/N: All I can say is this: even though _Merlin_ is ending, the fics better keep on rolling.  
Additionally: I am _so_ tired.  
Ever have those moments when the realities of your life suddenly hit you?  
Yesterday I realized I now only have three hours per day during which I am neither working nor sleeping. )`:

Anyway, you guys want to play a game?  
I'll tell you the title of the next one-shot and you try to guess what the neckerchief will be used for ;)  
Chapter nine will be called 'Captured'- I'd love to hear your theories

* * *

Another week, another patrol, another night spent tending to cantankerous knights and their horses.  
Merlin sighed as he stirred the stew now simmering over the campfire (which _he_ had built with wood _he_ had gathered).

At least he didn't have to wash Arthur's socks while they were out on patrol- though that only meant they would be that much worse once he did have to wash them- and they had gotten the requisite bandit attack out of the way early this morning so the rest of the trip should be relatively uneventful.

As if caused by that thought, loud shouting erupted from the other side of the fire and Merlin leapt to his feet only to find two of the younger knights squabbling over something.

Rolling his eyes the servant settled back down and was about to start dishing out the stew when the taller of the two brawlers punched the shorter who went flying backwards and tripped over the frame Merlin had set up to hold the pot over the fire.

His physical reaction outstripping his common sense, Merlin reached out and grasped the pot with his bare hands and- nerves being the way they are- failed to notice just how hot it was for several moments during which time the skin of his palms began to blister and burn.

Sensation having finally caught up with current events, the servant let out a pained shout and dropped the pot which landed askew and began leaking stew onto the forest floor.

Muttering imprecations to himself Merlin tugged off his neckerchief, wincing at the contact against his raw hands, and used it as insulation against the heat as he righted the cookware.

Meanwhile Arthur had heard his shout and was now by his side, looking on with concern as Merlin blew on his reddened hands.

"What happened? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just a bit of a burn. I'll go cool these off in the stream for a bit, if that's okay Sire."

"Of course. Do you have anything in your kit that could help? I can have someone fetch it for you."  
Arthur knew Merlin had taken to carrying medical supplies whenever they left Camelot, just in case.

"Yes, a salve in a light blue jar. It'll be near the bottom under some bandages. In fact, I'll need the bandages as well."

Arthur nodded "Okay. Now be off- you'll be even more useless than usual if you can't use your hands for the rest of the trip."

* * *

Merlin sighed in relief as he sank his burned skin into the refreshingly cool water and remained there for several minutes before he heard footsteps behind him.  
Standing and turning about he was surprised to find Arthur himself approaching with a jar clutched in his hand.

"I didn't see the bandages, Merlin, are you sure they were with the other supplies?

The physician's ward nearly smacked himself.  
Of _course_- he'd used all the bandages on injuries from the morning's scuffle.  
"Sorry, I'd forgotten they were all used this morning."

Frowning, Arthur set the jar down and grasped the hem of his shirt with both hands.  
Recognizing the motion Merlin was quick to stop him.  
"No, I can just use this."

He pulled his neckerchief out of the pocket he'd hastily stuffed it in- it was the muslin one Arthur had given him.

_I knew it wouldn't last long._  
He thought sadly, flinching as he began tearing it- this was the first time he'd worn the gift.

"Here" Arthur carefully pulled the cloth from Merlin's grip and ripped it into usable pieces.

"Right" Merlin nodded, reaching for the jar.

"You just leave that to me" Arthur said firmly, picking up the ointment himself.

Prying off the lid and grimacing a bit at the pungent smell, the king began slathering the balm all over the affected flesh while trying his level best to be gentle.  
That done the royal wrapped the former neck scarf inexpertly around the slimy limbs.

Surveying the result Merlin commented "Well it's better than the last time" thinking of their encounter with the knights of Medhir and 'his first battle wound'.

Arthur huffed and was about to retort when the servant interrupted.  
"Thank you, Arthur."

He grinned at his master until the royal smiled in return, slapping him on the back before turning to head back to camp.  
"Don't mention it- I mean it. And while you're here you can fetch some more water for the horses."

Merlin shook his head fondly, lips still upturned.  
"Prat."


	9. Captured

A/N: Guessing is fun, right?  
It was amusing that two reviewers picked out upcoming uses, but neither one applied to this chapter :)  
I was also impressed that someone guessed correctly- congrats to Kyrinea!  
It's like you can read my mind  
Next up is "Cut Off"- let the speculations fly.

A note to those of you who are reading my fic "Bound Together" - I'm probably not going to be updating that until after Christmas. I still have the desire to write (thus these shorts), but my lack of time and energy makes it difficult to properly consider all the things I need to keep track of for a multi-chapter endeavor.  
This being the case I will likely leave that on hiatus to avoid pushing out inferior chapters, especially since some _really_ important things are going to occur in the next few. I hope you're not too disappointed and that the eventual updates will make up for the extended absence thereof- thank you for your patience. *bows and then runs away*

* * *

Of all the situations Merlin had been in since coming to Camelot this was one of the most unique.  
He was bound to a chair in the middle of the woods directly outside of the city walls- this wasn't the unusual part.

No, the unusual part was that he was currently the object of entirely too much attention from all of Camelot's knights- or rather, his neckerchief was.

Perhaps starting from the beginning would be better?

That morning Arthur Pendragon had decided that his knights had become complacent with their everyday training methods and had devised a new exercise.

Personally, Merlin thought it was just revenge for the snowball fight.

The premise was simple: the knights were once again split into two teams, one was stationed inside the castle and one in the forest. The goal of each team was to defend their 'treasure' while capturing the opposing team's. And, since Arthur was the king, Merlin's neckerchief (still attached to its owner) was designated as the 'invading' team's treasure.

Having been promptly tied up and carted off by a grinning Percival and Elyan the servant didn't even know what his team was trying to steal.  
Why did everyone enjoy teasing him so much?

Anyway, this was how he came to be stuck to a chair with a plethora of knights out for his neck wear.

He had briefly considered simply escaping before realizing that every moment he spent relatively relaxed in this chair (his friends had been thoughtful and the bindings were just enough to keep him seated- he would have been able to wriggle out of them had he been so inclined) was a moment he didn't have to spend doing chores.

That wasn't to say Arthur wouldn't make him do all his usual chores in however much time remained afterward, but there was a small chance it would be enough to distract him.

Having little else to do Merlin began to doze, his head slipping down to meet his chest.

* * *

"ERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR"

Merlin jerked awake.  
_What is that noise?_

The knights in his immediate area, who had been hidden, now drew closer to him and were watching the trees warily.

"LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNN!"

The voice was closer now, and although the servant hadn't discarded the possibility of it being a hellish creature of nightmare out for his blood he had a sneaking suspicion this was not the case.

The time for speculation was soon past as a rather berserk-looking Gwaine burst into the scene, sounds of pursuit behind him.

Unfortunately for Merlin's 'guards' they had been frozen for a moment by his sudden and unconventional appearance- and now that he was closer his friend seemed to be quite wet; unidentified liquid dripping from his head and arms as he charged forward and dispatched the gaping guards.

The servant sighed. _Newbies._

"We're escaping!"  
Gwaine proclaimed loudly, snatching Merlin (chair and all) and pelting off deeper into the forest.  
Merlin could hear the sounds of a small battle taking place somewhere behind them as they disappeared.

* * *

"Can you believe that Merlin? What a waste!" Gwaine shouted, pounding his now-empty tankard down onto the table.

Having divested himself of the chair and rope, Merlin was now seated in the same tavern where he and Gwaine had first met (and it was a wonder they had been let back in).

The inebriated knight had been telling his tale of woe loudly and repeatedly for quite some time now and Merlin still wasn't sure he had the story straight, but from what he could gather Gwaine had been in a similar position to his own.

Arthur had had him tied to a chair with the castle team's treasure- a bucket of mead- placed on his head, presumably as a bribe and a way to keep him in place. Unfortunately for his team an attack by the forest troop led to the bucket spilling all over Gwaine and the man had snapped, taking out everyone nearby before making good his escape.

He had apparently run with the chair still bound to him until the furniture had given out under the strain, remaining behind as a pile of kindling along with the ropes.

The accuracy of this account was rather dubious at best, but it didn't particularly matter to Merlin who was now enjoying admiring looks from the barmaids.  
This really was his favorite tavern.

He was grinning stupidly at a rather voluptuous blond when a visibly drunk patron stepped up next to him and hauled him up by his neckerchief.

"And what do you think you're lookin' at, _boy?_"  
The man spat, literally, into his face.

Merlin had barely registered his change in situation before Gwaine was separating the two of them, placing himself in front of the servant.

"Come now, there's no cause for conflict here-"  
Whatever he was going to say next was lost as the drunk took a swing at the knight.

With a deft twist perfected through years of tavern brawling Gwaine avoided the blow and came up with a stool in his grasp, expertly bringing it down on the man's head.

As his opponent crashed to the floor Gwaine rushed to reassure the barkeep "I can't replace that."  
Then he also passed out, but for rather different reasons.

Merlin looked down at his friend in exasperation.  
Maybe he should just leave him here.  
No, he needed Gwaine with him when he returned so he could take most of the blame for their absence.

Sighing, he paid their tab and informed the owner there was a very nice chair just outside which he could use to replace the stool before hauling his friend upright and dragging him toward the door.

On his way out he saw the blond smiling at him and, noticing his gaze upon her, she winked and blew him a flirtatious kiss.

Yes, this was _definitely_ his favorite tavern.


	10. Cut Off

A/N: No one guessed :(  
I'll keep playing though, even if I'm the only one.  
Chapter 11 will be titled "Favored"- any theories?

This one changed a bit from what I originally had planned so the title isn't quite as meaningful as I had intended, but it still works.

* * *

Barreling into Arthur he almost managed to get them both out of the way in time- in fact, he thought he _had_ until he felt a line of white-hot pain slice across his thigh.

He cried out as he fell to the floor, clutching at the wound and soon becoming lightheaded from the rapid blood loss. Keeping one hand clamped down on the relevant pressure point he struggled to remove his neckerchief with the other, watching Arthur all the while.

The king, only temporarily put off-balance by Merlin's charge, turned quickly to meet the assassin.  
He had heard his servant shout in pain but forced himself to focus on his opponent.  
They traded blows for only a few moments before Arthur impaled the man and whirled to check on his friend, face draining of color as he did so.

Merlin was lying on the cold stone floor, blood pumping out of a deep gash on his thigh as he weakly attempted to tie his neckerchief around his leg above the wound.

"Merlin!" He crashed to the floor at his side, pressing his hands against the cut and drawing another cry from his servant. "Guards!"

Two of Camelot's finest came rushing around the corner, taking in the red-washed scene with horror.

"Don't just stand there! Get Gaius!"  
The guards bowed before taking off at a run.

"Merlin, what should I do?"  
_Please let there be something I can do._

"Need to make... a tourniquet."

_His voice is so weak!_  
The pale eyelids started to drift closed and Arthur panicked a little (not that he would ever admit that).  
"Stay with me Merlin! You need to tell me what to do, I don't know how to make a tourniquet."

"Find... a stick... something like that..."

The royal cast about desperately, Merlin was fading fast.  
"Will this do?" He asked, pulling a scroll from his belt- a speech he was supposed to be giving that afternoon. A speech Merlin had written.

"Tie it... to my scarf... tightly."

Arthur did as instructed and waited expectantly.

"Now, twist it... until the bleeding stops."

The servant's voice was so slight he could barely be heard and as he finished giving the directions he seemed to relax, head sinking down onto the floor with a soft 'thud'.

Concentrating on his task, the king didn't notice Merlin had passed out until he had finished tightening the tourniquet and looked up for the next step.  
"Merlin? Merlin, you can't do this to me- wake up!"

He wanted to shake him, but knew he shouldn't let go of the scroll.  
Arthur had just started cursing when the guards returned with a frantic-looking Gaius.

"Gaius!"  
Distress was evident in his voice, but he was beyond caring at this point.

The elder dropped to his knees and reached forward, securing the scroll with the loose ends of the neckerchief. Examining the wound and noticing that it had mostly ceased bleeding, he nodded.

"You've done well, Sire, but we need to get him to my chambers."

"Of course. Guards, take him- gently!"

Arthur followed behind the other three, taking a moment to gather himself before asking "Will he be okay, Gaius?"

Turning back around to observe the crimson pool where his ward had lain the physician answered "I hope so, Sire."  
Then he took off at a speed appropriate for a much younger man.

Arthur stared, fixated, at the blood and hugged himself for a moment before heading after the group.  
Merlin _would_ be fine. The alternative was just unthinkable.


	11. Blew It

A/N: Okay, this isn't 'favored' and it _is_ really short, but it just occurred to me that this was pretty much the perfect place to shoehorn this in (well, actually, the perfect place would've been after 'ague' but I was a bit slow on the uptake). So, 'favored' will now be chapter 12. I am also pleased to say that someone has already correctly guessed the neckerchief use- but I won't say who ^_~

* * *

Arthur fidgeted outside the door, twisting the bit of purple cloth in his hands.

The sudden outburst of coughs on the other side of the wood, followed by a pained groan, made him want to leave- but he knew Guinevere wouldn't forgive him if he did.

Straightening up, he strode forward with a confidence he wasn't feeling and pushed the door open slowly.

"Merlin?"

The window was shuttered and the room was dark and drear, the king could hardly make out the pitiful form of his manservant huddled on the bed.

"How are you feeling?"

He knew it was a foolish question.  
The man was weak yet from blood loss and the injury was still healing, making it necessary that he remain in bed.

Not that that was too much of a problem for Merlin who, in his vulnerable state, had contracted a nasty cold and was entirely too miserable to brave escaping Gaius' watchful eye.

As expected, the reply to his question was little more than a grunt.

"I-uh... I brought you something. Just a... token- you know, for service to the crown. It was Guinevere's idea really..."

Arthur had already felt awkward before Merlin started looking at him with that knowing smile and those blasted eyebrows- there _must_ be some sort of blood relation between Gaius and his ward- and then there was the guilt.

Once again the servant had been injured protecting the warrior and Arthur still didn't know how to deal with the situation.

For now he'd just have to settle for making a small gesture.

"To replace the last one I gave you, since you went and ruined it."  
He winced internally a bit- he had _meant_ to be nice... but this was _Mer_lin...

The invalid reached out and accepted the purple neckerchief, fingering the fabric that was so much finer than anything else he owned.

"Thangs Arthur" he said, voice deep and thick with congestion.

The two stared at each other in silence; the king wanting both to apologize and to run away simultaneously, the servant smiling gently as if he knew exactly what was going through the other's mind.

"Right. Well, I'll expect to be seeing you as soon as you're recovered- and _on time_ for once!"

The grin widened.  
"Ob course Ar-tur."  
He coughed weakly into his blanket, brow pinching at the pain in his chest and throat.

"Feel better soon."  
The king said softly, rushing out of the room before Merlin could see the concern on his face.

As he closed the door he heard an impressive sneeze followed by more grumbling, a brief pause, and a sound that resembled a muted trumpet.

Arthur froze.  
_He didn't..._

He almost turned to confront his friend about his use of a royal gift, but decided against it.

Some things are better left unknown.


	12. Favored

A/N: 'Favored' at last ;) kudos to Distressed Clover for guessing the usage!  
Next up will be linked to this one: 'Bridled Fury'. So yeah, not that hard to anticipate what's coming.

* * *

Merlin stood behind Arthur as he greeted his noble visitors: Lord Crowley and his two young children, Lily and Darellen. The family resemblance was clear in their identical hazel eyes and curly blond locks, though the facial expressions seemed to indicate basic differences in personality.

The Lord himself had a determined set to his jaw, though a twinkle in his eye suggested underlying humor and Lily, the younger child, looked downright mischievous. Darellen, however, had a condescending air about him; regarding everything as if it were unworthy.

Arthur had finished his welcome speech whilst Merlin had been observing their guests and was now motioning him forward.

"My servant will show your children to their rooms and I have assigned some of the castle's maidservants to assist your own staff in their care if that meets with your approval."

Lord Crowley bowed appreciatively.  
"Thank you, Sire, I have only brought one nursemaid along so this aid is most welcome."

"Very well, if you'll come with me we will begin immediately. Merlin?"

Stepping toward the diminutive nobles the servant bowed with a smile.  
"If you'll follow me, my Lord and Lady" he said cheerfully before leading the two through the castle, their nursemaid trailing behind.

* * *

Merlin had just finished clearing away the dishes from Arthur's dinner with Lord Crowley when a servant appeared to give the king a message. Arthur nodded and dismissed the messenger, turning to Merlin.

"It seems Lord Crowley's young daughter has requested your service this evening."

At the raise of a dark-haired eyebrow the royal continued.

"More accurately she has requested that 'the funny servant from this morning' come and 'tell her a bedtime story'. I can only assume she was referring to you and your ridiculous looks."

The servant gave an offended huff.  
"I'll go straight there after dropping this lot off in the kitchens."

"See that you do- and send another servant to help me prepare for bed."

Hefting the dirty dishes and trays Merlin grinned at his master.  
"Of course, _Sire_, can't have you trying to turn down your _own_ blankets now, can we?"

Arthur reached for a goblet to throw before realizing they had all been collected along with the plates.  
"Just get on with it, idiot."

* * *

Hearing a positive response to his knock, Merlin pushed open the door to the guest chambers and was met with an unusual sight.

The space had been transformed into what he interpreted as a child's version of a throne room made up of spare linens and commandeered furniture. The nursemaid stationed outside the door had seemed quite tired and it was easy to see why- it was a rather impressive feat, the way the sheets were draped to create sweeping ceilings and billowy walls. He could see no other attendants so it was possible they'd done all this themselves.

Seeing Lily on a chair designed for a much larger person he smiled and bowed.  
"You summoned me, Your Highness?"  
No harm in playing along, after all.

She held out a hand imperiously, stating "you may approach", but ruined the mood by giggling as he kissed her hand. The young noble then hopped out of the chair and pushed him into it, surprising him further by wiggling up onto his lap.

"Tell me a story!" She said happily, gazing up into his face with her lively eyes.

"Alright, what sort of story would you like to hear?"

"Do you know any about knights?"

He chuckled. "Oh, I know _a lot_ of stories about knights."  
That said, he launched into a harrowing tale of honor, bravery, and daring-do.

Lily laughed and clapped as the young man imitated the various characters, changing his voice and gesticulating wildly to emphasize his words.

Once he had finished the young noble looked up at him dreamily.  
"I want to be a knight when I grow up."

"Oh? A knight? Not a princess?"

The girl scrunched up her face. "Being a princess seems boring. I want to go out on quests and fight in tournaments!" She slid out of his lap and mimed sword-fighting, 'slaying' a convenient chest with a well-placed thrust of her imaginary blade.

Merlin chortled softly, slipping off of the 'throne' onto all fours.  
"Well, you can't ride in a tourney without a horse."  
He winked at her and she blushed slightly.

"But if you're the horse, who will cheer me on?"  
She asked almost shyly.

"Can't I do both?"  
_Oh Merlin, you charmer._  
He could practically _hear_ Arthur and the knights teasing him for this, but proceeded anyway.  
"I would be honored if you would wear my favor, Lady Lily."

Hazel eyes widened, but she nodded "I would like that."

The servant reached up and untied his neckerchief, fastening it lightly to the would-be knight's arm.  
"Now, shall we ride?" He asked, bending down further so she could easily climb onto his back.

Clambering up and taking hold of his shirt with one hand she pretended to hold a lance in the other.  
"Charge!" She cried as they squared off against a sinister-looking wardrobe.

Laughter and squeals of joy could be heard well into the night before Lily was tired enough to admit defeat, finally calling in her nursemaid and dismissing Merlin.

"Thank you, I had a lot of fun."  
She said, smiling at him sleepily.

"As did I, m'lady."  
Merlin grinned and bowed his way out, finding his own bed and settling into a deep, contented sleep.


	13. Bridled Fury

A/N: Man, this one _did not_ want to be written! It put up quite the fight for such a simple piece- hope it turned out alright regardless.

I'm glad you guys seem to like stories featuring Merlin with kids- I've got at least two more left :)  
Next up: 'Frozen'

* * *

Merlin's good mood was still with him when he woke the next morning, setting off bright and early to wake the king (who was decidedly less happy to be conscious). His knees and back protested each movement, but that was a small thing when compared to the memory of Lily's smile and joyous laughter.

In fact, he was still grinning like an idiot when Arthur informed him he was to entertain Darellen for the afternoon.

"You seem to be popular with children, Merlin- probably due to your similar level of intelligence."

"And yet I'm still brighter than you." The servant quipped in return, dodging the dirty lunch plate the king tossed at him.

"I expect you to muck out the stables afterward and-"

"Polish your armor, sharpen your sword, scrub the floors, wash your socks... don't worry Arthur, I know the list."

The royal glared at him as he waltzed out, completely unconcerned.

* * *

Merlin knocked on Darellen's door, trying not to think about the repugnant expression he'd seen on the young noble's face the previous day.  
Perhaps he'd just been nervous?  
Yes, that had to be it, he was simply insecure in his new surroundings.

Having successfully convinced himself everything was fine he entered the chambers with a smile, bowing slightly to the young boy currently seated in front of a fine selection of fruits and cheeses.

"How may I serve you, m'lord?" He asked in a friendly manner.

Straightening up he noticed the four maids lined along the wall waiting for orders, all with eyes downcast.  
So this is why Lily had only had one maid...

"It is my understanding that you played with my sister yesterday."

His lips twitched a bit- clearly this boy had been spending too much time around pompous nobles.  
Such words coming from his tiny mouth struck him as funny and he had to suppress his grin.  
"That is true, m'lord."

The boy hopped off his chair and looked at him expectantly.  
"Well?" He huffed.

"My lord?" Merlin was understandably confused.

Darellen shook his head, blond curls bouncing "You must be as dim as they say."

The servant fought to contain a frown. And just who had been talking about him, anyway?  
He eyed the maids with suspicion. It was probably Violet, she never had liked him...

The noble stomped his foot and pointed at the floor. "You will be my horse!"

Merlin kept his face carefully neutral, noting that the maids were also watching him- both relieved to have attention drawn away from themselves and sympathetic at his plight (except Violet, she looked rather gleeful).

He absently wondered if this is what Arthur had been like as a child, grudgingly sinking to all fours and biting back a groan as his aches from the previous night intensified.

"Maid!" The mini-prat snapped.  
One of the waiting servants stepped forward, struggling to lift the boy and place him on Merlin's back.

Merlin shifted under the weight, the boy was no more than 10 years old and the servant was used to being used as a step-stool by Arthur in full armor, but he was still quite substantial- certainly more so than his little sister.

He felt a tug at his neck and was surprised to suddenly find his neckerchief rising up into his mouth. _What-?_

He spent only a short time in confusion before Darellen was kicking his sides and yanking on the neckerchief, steering Merlin as if he truly were an animal.

The servant seethed, briefly contemplating the possibility of throwing the little terror off and disappearing for a few days.  
_No, you can do this, you've put up with Arthur all this time haven't you?_

Internal pep talk finished, Merlin began to lumber around the room at the noble's direction, the kicking of booted feet and jerking of the makeshift tack never abating.

"Faster!" Darellen yelled, and the substitute horse felt a stinging slap to his cheek.  
He turned his head a bit in surprise only to receive another blow to the face.  
_Who gave this brat a riding crop?_ He thought in outrage.

Staring resolutely at the floor, Merlin endeavored to go faster.  
If any of the maids had been able to look they would have seen an unprecedented murderous look on the manservant's face- but even Violet was avoiding his gaze now, all of them wincing in empathy.

Merlin bore the rest of his torment in silence before being blessedly released when the young noble was summoned for dinner.

The servant said nothing about the incident, but found himself excused from further service to Darellen, instead playing companion to Lily for the rest of the family's visit.

The little girl wore a smug smile every time she looked at her brother and Merlin suspected she had made a special request of her father concerning the issue (she clearly had the man wrapped around her little finger).

And if, on his way out to the carriage that would carry him home, Darellen slipped and fell into a mud puddle; Merlin certainly couldn't have had anything to do with that, now could he?


	14. Frozen

A/N: I hate overtime in general, but it's even worse when you have to work overtime and there isn't enough work to justify it. It's like spitting on a person after you've kicked them, maybe even slapping them a bit. *sigh* But at least the paycheck will be nice.

Next up: "Geronimo"... I think... may change to something else

* * *

Grass crunched beneath horse hooves, the frost not having dissipated despite the sun's arrival.  
Merlin shivered, one arm tucked inside his jacket while the other held the reins.  
"My hand is going to freeze like this if we stay out any longer..."

He had been muttering to himself but the silence of the early morning allowed Arthur to hear the words clearly.

"Well, _Mer_lin, if you had dressed more appropriately you wouldn't be having that problem."

"Not all of us can afford gloves, _Sire_."  
If the servant hadn't leaned forward to breathe warm air onto his hand he may have noticed the king's guilty expression.

"Ah!" In a moment of resourceful thinking Merlin pulled the neckerchief from his throat (rather loath to give up the warmth on his chest, but at least he still had his jacket) and tied one end around his wrist, wrapping the middle around his palm before looping the other end around his fingers and tucking it in to make a semblance of a mitten.

"Genius" he said proudly, flexing his stiff fingers inside the relatively warm fabric.

Arthur rolled his eyes.  
"Right, well if you're finished praising yourself we've-"

The sentence remained unfinished as the king was flung from his horse by a sudden rush of magical force.

"Arthur!" Merlin yelled, quickly dismounting but stopping in place when their attacker appeared between the king and his servant.

Trying to keep an eye on the sorcerer- who was now giving the usual speech about the evils of Camelot and its King- he watched as Sir Leon helped his master sit up.  
_He's fine_. Merlin sighed in relief, then turned his attention back to the threat at hand.

The sorcerer was just proclaiming that Arthur would pay when he raised his arm to point at the royal, but Merlin certainly wasn't going to allow him to release a spell.

With a yell the warlock tackled his enemy, sending the two of them rolling down an embankment onto a frozen lake where they awkwardly continued to tussle, neither one being able to properly regain their footing.

Apparently tired of wrestling, the sorcerer pulled a dagger and lunged at Merlin who skidded out of the way, falling flat on his face in his hasty retreat.

His attacker chose this moment to remember he had magic, casting a large fireball at the prone servant.

Merlin rolled across the ice, desperately trying to escape being singed.  
Succeeding in that, he failed to consider the impact of a fireball on frozen water and, with a look of horror, began clawing at the ice as it melted underneath him.

* * *

Arthur felt his insides twist as the sorcerer raised his hand, pointing directly at him.  
However, instead of relief, that sensation only intensified as he watched his loyal servant charge the man, the force of his dash carrying both of them down a small hill.

"Merlin!" He yelled, waving aside Leon's concern as he jerked to his feet and looked down on the lake.  
The lanky man was fighting the sorcerer, both of them slipping repeatedly on the icy surface.

Their attacker had just pulled a dagger as Arthur began hurrying down the bank, then a flash of orange drew his eyes and he stared in abject terror as the flames streaked toward his friend.

He had only a moment of relief before realizing that being burned had become the least of Merlin's problems, the dark waters seeming to rise up and swallow him before beginning to ice over once more.

* * *

He was panicking, all ability to think taken from him in the shock of hitting the frigid water.  
His hands were quickly losing purchase as they scrabbled across the smooth ice and he felt more of his body being claimed by the cold.  
Just as he lost grip completely his makeshift mitten caught on the edge of the hole, leaving a small red flag sticking up as the lake re-froze above his head.  
Merlin just had time to be thankful he had tied the cloth to his wrist before giving in to the cold, his body leaking air bubbles as it remained tethered to the ice.

* * *

Too far, he was too far away. Merlin was in the water and he couldn't even tell where he had gone under, the lake already looking as it had before this whole horrifying experience had begun.

He could hear the rest of his small patrol clattering up behind him but didn't even spare them a glance, keeping his eyes glued to the lake for any sign of his friend. There!

A red tuft of fabric stuck up a few feet in front of him and Arthur crashed to his knees beside it, noting that the new patch of ice- having frozen so quickly- was almost completely clear. It only took a moment before he was fighting the urge to leap back.

The pale, motionless body of his servant had bobbed up so that the king was staring through the ice directly into the ghostly face.  
The eyelids were thankfully closed- the sight would have haunted him forever else. _It still might._ Arthur thought grimly.

"Help me!" He commanded his men, drawing his sword and using the pommel to chip away at the ice, keeping the end of the neckerchief held tightly in his other hand.

"Leon, start a fire- get it as big and hot as you can!"

"Yes, Sire!" Leon immediately set off to begin his task.

Arthur grew more frantic each moment his friend remained under water, showing no signs of life other than the occasional bubble passing between blue lips. Focusing instead on the ice, the time passed no more quickly until they finally managed to break through, hastily working together to widen the hole and keep it open as the king pulled his servant from the lake.

"C'mon, Merlin..." he shook the man roughly but saw no reaction and so progressed to slapping him in the face with rather more force than was necessary.  
The king almost fainted in relief when Merlin began coughing, water coming out with every heave of his lungs.

Arthur turned the servant on his side and he continued coughing up liquid for several moments before subsiding and weakly curling in on himself, his body seeming too stiff to bend properly.

Immediate worry about Merlin's death assuaged, Arthur snapped out orders.  
"Help me get him out of these wet clothes, then we'll wrap him in our cloaks and get him to the fire."

The knights, though none of them knew Merlin particularly well, were only too happy to comply and the thin man was soon swaddled in a thick cocoon of Pendragon red.

Leon looked up from feeding the fire as Arthur came crashing down next to him.  
"You should use one those cloaks to dry him off- especially his hair. Then someone should hold him, with the dry cloaks wrapped around both."

"Right." Nodded the royal, only too ready to accept advice.  
He peeled off the outer layers of the cocoon and used his own (which had gone on first) to dry Merlin thoroughly before re-wrapping him in Leon's proffered cloak and drawing him into his embrace.

"Cover us up." He ordered a nearby knight, arms furiously trying to rub some warmth into his servant's still frame.  
His expression made it clear that he would brook no argument and the task was soon accomplished.

Arthur's ministrations lasted for only a few moments before Merlin began to tremble violently.

Seeing his king's panic-stricken look, Leon reassured him.  
"This is a good sign, Sire. He may even wake up soon."

And wake he did, if only a little, just as the tremors began to calm.

"A-arthur..." Merlin was looking up, blue eyes betraying the shock his body was still experiencing "you o-k-kay?"

Arthur huffed "you're hardly in any condition to be worrying about others, _Mer_lin."  
Then his face softened ever-so-slightly "yes, I'm okay- thanks to you."

"The sorcerer?" Merlin asked.

The king stiffened. All consideration of their adversary had fled along with rational thought when he had first seen Merlin slip beneath the ice.

"He seems to have stabbed himself when you evaded him earlier, Merlin. He was dead when we arrived." Leon supplied.

Arthur thought saying Merlin had 'evaded his attacker' was overly kind, but decided now wasn't the time to be teasing the man about his clumsiness.

Merlin nodded in acknowledgment, eyes slipping closed as he relaxed into slumber.

"We should get him back to Camelot, Sire." Leon suggested respectfully.

"Of course. We'll leave immediately."

As the group rode home Arthur murmured to the servant slumped in front of him:  
"You know, there are much better ways to go about getting a pair of gloves."


	15. Attention

A/N: And SERIOSLYNICK guessed the usage – a digital pat on the back for you :)

"Geronimo" has been put off as I cannot decide which way I want to write it. When I initially thought about the parachute usage I imagined a cutesy almost-romance fluff piece, but later my mind came up with a little action/adventure sort of thing.  
I mentally compose my writing before I actually start typing but every time I start building it along one path my brain wants to go the other way. Crazy indecisive brain.  
So instead I'm giving you this little vignette since I knew it would be short.  
(I am so tired it's not even funny, but I find that I need a little positive feedback since I am doing an awesome job at work every day but receiving nearly nothing in return. Adult life is highly disappointing.)  
Anywho, chapter 16 will be: "Gretzing "

* * *

Arthur and company were taking an extended patrol, checking in on various border towns, when they found themselves in a rather unprecedented situation.  
They were babysitting.

In the midst of arguing about where to stop for the night- half wanted to keep going and stay at an inn (with a tavern) and half were keen on stopping earlier and sleeping in the forest- their shouting was interrupted by the sound of a baby crying.  
Most of the knights being single young men the sound wasn't immediately recognizable to them and they had slowly approached the infant with weapons drawn- until Merlin pushed past them.

"_Honestly._ Are Camelot's best and brightest now wary of babes?"  
The servant rolled his eyes as he gathered up the squirming youngster who was wearing nothing but a rag that was acting as a diaper.  
"I bet you're cold, poor little fella. _Here_."

He deposited the baby into Percival's arms (since he was the only other person with no chain mail there to cause discomfort). The knight took it rather well, looking down at the squalling baby and cooing softly.

Merlin removed his neckerchief and used it to swaddle the tiny child, reclaiming it in the process.  
Percival now seemed to be pouting, but the baby had settled into a relatively quiet sleep.

"Where did it come from? I see no sign of a struggle, and no other people are nearby..."  
Arthur trailed off at Merlin's solemn expression.

"We're not too far from the next village, this baby has probably been abandoned- just far enough that it wouldn't be found by anyone who might be able to identify who left it."

The king looked stricken. _Why would anyone-?_

Seeing the question on his master's face the servant continued with a sigh.  
"Peasants often fall upon hard times, m'lord. For one reason or another they become unable to provide even for themselves let alone any family they may have. Many- young widows especially- choose to leave a babe in the woods rather than watch them slowly dying in front of their eyes. It is a tragic fact of life for the poor."  
His expression took on an odd cast "some even believe that tree fairies or wandering nobles-in-disguise will happen upon their child and save them- peasants are a superstitious lot. " He shrugged as if shaking off the melancholy his words had brought on.

After several moments of awkward silence Sir Leon turned to Arthur.  
"What will we do with the child, Sire?"

Jolted from his reverie, the king nevertheless answered firmly.  
"The next village is the last stop on our tour, if the mother comes forward we will quietly provide her some monies with which to care for the babe. If no family is found we will take the child along with us to Camelot."

Leon's eyes widened slightly, but he made no reply aside from his usual "Yes, Sire".

"Merlin: you'll be in charge of it in the meantime."

"Of course I will..." the servant grumbled, more out of habit than actual displeasure at the task.  
The baby had awoken and was now gurgling happily at the man who smiled widely in return.

A few feet away Arthur watched the pair with a soft expression on his face and- not for the first time- marveled at how very _good _Merlinwas with children.

_Probably because he's just as pure as they are..._

Shaking free of his thoughts the king took command, ordering his knights about in the construction of their camp for the evening- no one commented on the fact that he didn't give Merlin any additional chores to perform.


	16. Brutzing, Wutzing, and Kutzing

A/N: I changed the title a little, but the story's the same. Honorable mention to Kyrinea for knowing what 'gretzing' means (or looking it up).

Good news everyone, I've been told overtime will end next week (so I'll be extra despondent when they reinstate it at the last minute). Yeah, I can't use the phrase "good news everyone" without thinking of _Futurama_- at which point I have to turn the good news into something horrible.

Chapter 17? 'I See You'

* * *

The knights had finished setting up camp and Merlin was settled on his bedroll, the baby having captured one of his fingers to suck on. Percival was hovering next to them, trying to offer his finger for similar treatment.

Having failed to obtain anything from the pale digit, said infant soon began protesting with little sounds of displeasure that soon grew into full-blown wailing.

"Shh, shh. It's okay." Merlin said in his most soothing voice.

"What's the matter?" Percival asked worriedly.

"Probably hungry." The servant answered.

"Take it for a moment."

The big knight was happy to comply, gently cradling the squalling bundle as the lanky man went to his saddle bags and retrieved his spare water skin and a backup neckerchief (he had recently taken to having at least two with him when on patrol with Arthur- this being a long trip he had brought four).

Percival arched an eyebrow in question.

"I bought some milk in the village earlier today."  
Well, actually, he had simply used magic to turn the water into milk, but he couldn't very well say _that_.

Sinking back down onto his bedroll he settled the skin between his feet and uncapped it, gesturing for Percival to return the babe.

Ignoring the giant's look of disappointment, Merlin kept the infant in the crook of one arm as he dipped the tip of his neckerchief into the milk and brought it up to the baby's lips. Not recognizing the bit of cloth as a viable food source the infant continued fussing until Merlin rubbed the sodden scarf around the crying mouth, at which point it began sucking instinctively.

The two men watched contentedly, the servant re-dipping the scarf as necessary until the baby stopped demanding more.

"Hungry little bugger."

Merlin glanced back at Gwaine, who had apparently begun watching partway through.

"How about we abandon you in the forest and see how hungry _you_ get, eh Gwaine?" Arthur suggested jovially.

"Just an observation." Gwaine said, raising his hands in placation.

Merlin, meanwhile, had risen to his feet and was walking around with the baby, bouncing gently.

"May I hold it?" Percival asked shyly.

The servant grinned at him.  
"Of course. Here."

He passed the swaddled youngster into the knight's waiting arms, positioning it against the man's shoulder.  
"Just keep walking around and bouncing a bit, oh, you'll need this-"

Percival watched with interest as Merlin folded the milky neckerchief before placing it between babe and chain mail. The knight nodded, assuming it was to protect delicate skin from metal, and Merlin moved fireside to check on the dinner Leon was preparing.

The servant had thought perhaps Percival had known what he was doing, but watching him awkwardly coddling the child made Merlin grin in amusement.  
"Try lightly patting its back!" He called with a twinkle in his eye.

Percival complied and before long a loud burp was heard.  
"Merlin" the knight called in an odd tone of voice, having frozen in place.

"Yes, Sir Percival?" The servant asked with ill-concealed mirth as he approached.

"What is this?" He flicked his eyes toward the small whitish puddle on his shoulder.

"Just a bit of spit-up, Percy, nothing to get out-of-sorts over!"  
Gwaine called cheerfully, having taken in the proceedings from a short distance.

Seeing the look of concern on the knight's face, Merlin took pity on him.  
"It's nothing to worry about Percival. This is pretty normal, especially considering the feeding method. Let's just get this cleaned up."  
He collected the neckerchief from the knight's shoulder and used it to wipe the baby's face.  
"Do you want me to take it back?" He asked quietly.

Percival shook his head. "No, I was just- surprised is all."  
The knight gazed at the now-sleeping bundle in his arms.

"I'll leave you to it then" Merlin smiled encouragingly and gave the knight a clap on the back before taking off to wash his scarf in the nearby creek.

"Just surprised..." Percival repeated to himself, feeling his heart warm at the sight of the slumbering child.

No one had the heart to tell him his lullaby was painfully out-of-tune.


	17. I See You

A/N: Am I the only one who thought the last episode was trying to show that everyone already knows about Merlin's magic? Arthur, Gwen, and Gwaine at least.  
Also, I absolutely loved Gwaine's sad face right before he left the cave.  
Like many other _Merlin_ fans I am both super excited and very sad. Last episode... *sobs*

Not very pleased with the end of this one, but I figured people would want to know what happened to the baby.  
The next chapter will be a Christmas special :)

* * *

Merlin returned from the creek, wet neckerchief in-hand, and sat by the fire to watch Percival cradling the sleeping child.  
He must have been staring contentedly for quite some time as the scarf was dry when his musings were broken by the baby's fitful crying.

Percival was rocking the infant and making soothing noises, but the gretzing continued.

Merlin made his way over to the pair, positioning himself directly in the child's field of vision before holding his neckerchief up in both hands to hide his face.  
"Peek-a-boo!" He crowed, whipping the cloth down and surprising the baby into silence.

Percival looked between the two with eyebrow raised.

The servant slowly brought the scarf back up in front of himself, seeing the infant watching intently, then swiftly dropped it once more "Peek-a-boo! I see you!" his sing-song voice called out.

The youngster laughed and rocked in the knight's arms, trying to kick its legs despite the restricting swaddling.

Merlin laughed in return and reached forward to tickle the baby, stopping when he noticed a wet patch beginning to form on the impromptu baby blanket.  
"Well I think I know what prompted the crying." He said in a wry voice.

"What?" Percival asked innocently.

"Diaper needs to be changed" he pointed meaningfully.

"Ah." The knight replied, suddenly losing interest in holding the baby any longer.

Carefully avoiding the soiled patch of cloth, Merlin took the baby in his arms and began making his way to the creek only to be interrupted by Arthur.

"Where are you going?"

"The baby needs to be changed but we don't have anything to replace the soiling clothing so I'm going to wash everything in the creek."

"Oh? You're sure we have _nothing_ that would serve?"  
Arthur was clearly eying the freshly-laundered kerchief Merlin had re-tied around his neck.

The servant's eyes narrowed and his reply was a flat "yes."

* * *

They broke camp early in the morning and entered the next village soon afterward.  
It wasn't long before an hysterical woman threw herself at the nights, begging for forgiveness and the return of her baby.

"I'm so sorry, I just didn't... and I couldn't... but I can't-"

Arthur gently clasped the woman's arms and attempted to soothe her.  
"It's alright, of course we'll return your child to you. Here..."

He sat with the mother in her home and listened to her tale of a husband recently dead, no family to rely on, and a poor harvest on top of her own ill health. The king was nothing but sympathetic and made sure none of the other villagers knew what had happened, nor that the family had received a generous royal grant along with a check-up and some herbal medicine from Merlin.

Percival and Merlin were rather quiet afterward (not that anyone would notice where the knight was concerned), but no one could remain sad for long- they were on their way home; with a firm reminder of exactly what they were working for.


	18. Gifted

A/N: -_-  
Also: Merry Christmas!

Sorry I missed getting this out yesterday, I had planned on writing and posting in the morning before my family arrived but then I fell and injured myself (nothing serious, just painful) so that went out the window. Better late than never?

I decided to take some liberties and give Camelot Christmas, 'cuz this is fanfiction and I can do these things.

There've been too many happy chapters recently so I think chapter 19 will probably be "Lifeline".

* * *

Merlin woke early, abuzz with anticipation for the holiday and the gift he had prepared for Arthur.

He rolled out of bed and threw on his typical attire, shoving a scroll in his belt and snatching up an extra neckerchief to wrap the gift in- it was important that Arthur be the first to touch it after Merlin cast the final spell, that is what would bind the enchantment to him alone.  
With a whispered word and a flash of his eyes the gift was complete and the warlock snatched it up with the scarf, tying the ends into a large bow to disguise the excess fabric (it was only a small item, after all).

Careful not to make a sound, Merlin slipped into the main chamber and placed Gaius' gift- a couple of books on foreign medicine obtained whilst traveling with Arthur- on the table before dashing off to the kitchens. He would return later and make a special breakfast for the old man, but for now it was time to see to the prat.

The manservant loaded his arms with mounds of food, pausing to pop a few grapes and a bit of cheese in his own mouth, and headed for the royal chambers.

He listened at the door for a moment and, hearing no sign of activity, eased it open.  
A touch of magic insured the door closed with no sound as the servant set about arranging the various fruits, meats, cheeses, and sweetbreads on the table. A glance at the fire had it crackling merrily.

As he walked toward the window Gwen awoke and beheld him with a soft smile.  
Merlin grinned in return and held up a finger to keep her from alerting Arthur.  
Her smile turned into a smirk and she moved away from her husband a bit (purely for safety reasons).

Before the king could be disturbed by the sudden lack of queen by his side, Merlin flung the curtains open and sang out "Merry Christmas Sire!"

Arthur, illustrious King of Camelot and future High King of Albion, let out an unmanly yelp and half leapt/ half fell out of bed to lie on the floor in a tangle of linens.  
He was still reaching for his sword by the time Merlin stopped laughing at him, though the intent behind the action changed partway through the process.

The blond had opened his mouth to yell but was interrupted by his servant, who gestured grandly toward the table and announced "Your breakfast awaits, Sire."

Arthur's eyes narrowed at being cut off, but the vast array of victuals was enough to forestall any punishment. He lumbered toward the table and began tucking into his meal, still in his nightclothes.

Gwen, meanwhile, had slipped into an overdress while Merlin added more wood to the fire. She then joined her husband at the table.

"I hope you are finding everything agreeable, Sire."  
Merlin said after some time had passed in companionable silence, a twinkle in his eye.

"So far it has been... satisfactory."  
Arthur grumbled as if this was a bad thing.

Gwen laughed lightly.  
"It's perfect, Merlin. And now that I've broken my fast, I am off to prepare for the day- I'll see you later, Arthur." The queen leaned over and kissed her husband, then gave the servant a hug "Merry Christmas, Merlin. Your present will be delivered to your room this afternoon- and you'd better wear it to the feast this evening!"

"Gwen, you didn't have to-"

"But I wanted to! You've done so much for Arthur and I, and you really could use a new coat." She tugged at his ragged collar for emphasis "besides, I made it myself and to refuse would be an insult to the nation. Now just accept it and be happy."

"Thank you, Gwen."  
His smile prompted her to give him another hug.

Arthur had been glowering slightly during this exchange so the queen paused to give him another kiss. "Don't be jealous."

"Not jealous..." Arthur grumbled before pulling his wife back for another kiss.

"Then why won't you let me go get dressed?" She asked reasonably.

"Who's stopping you?" He asked, quickly releasing her.

"I won't be gone long, just be a little patient." Her smile was teasing and Arthur reached for her again.

Seeing that this exchange could go on indefinitely, Merlin cleared his throat loudly, snapping the two out of their little lovey-dovey world.  
Gwen chuckled and swept out the room to her own adjoining chambers, the king staring after her.

Even though he was still excited about his gift, it was a bit intimidating to actually give something to the king- even if he was a clotpole.

Arthur noticed his sudden discomfort and sighed "What is it Merlin? Did you break something of mine again?"

"Ah, no, I- I have a gift for you, Arthur." He placed the bundle in front of the surprised royal "I also cleared your schedule up until the feast so you have all day free to spend with Gwen. Oh!" He pulled the roll of parchment from his belt "and here is your speech for this evening."

The king was looking a bit overwhelmed "Merlin, I don't know what-"

"Just open the gift Arthur" the servant smiled encouragingly, still a bit nervous.

The royal tugged at the bow, only succeeding in making it tighter until Merlin stepped forward to help.  
"Merlin, this is remarkable!"

It was a golden cloak clasp in the shape of the Pendragon Crest, the securing pin a miniature replica of Excalibur. This must have cost a small fortune, even if it did appear to be only wood beneath the gold...  
"You shouldn't be spending your money on me, Merlin, I-"

"It hardly cost anything at all, Arthur, I made it myself."  
_With some magical aid._ He added silently.

The king was flabbergasted and returned to staring at the clasp, mouth slightly agape.  
"I had no idea you had such skill..."

"I've told you I have many talents- including juggling."

In fact, he had only applied slight touches of magic here and there to add detail to the piece; the rest had been done by hand. The warlock had taken up carving after meeting and losing his father, though this was certainly the finest item he had ever made as well as being the only one he had ever shown to anyone else.

Arthur didn't seem to be able to come up with any more words so Merlin continued speaking.

"It's good luck, made from the wood of an ancient yew near my home in Ealdor. I have a charm made from the same tree-" he raised his wrist to show off his bracelet which did, indeed, sport a wooden bead that Arthur had never noticed before. _Was _that_ the source of the man's unnatural luck?_ He mused.

Truth be told, the clasp _was_ made from the tree and the tree _was_ reputed to be lucky, but Merlin had chosen it because yew was a good wood for making charms- the older the better. The true source of the 'luck' was the hours the warlock had spent layering spell after spell onto the clasp. Nothing that would be noticeable- just enough to put off any poorly-aimed attacks, some illnesses, and minor curses- but with Arthur every little bit helped.

Keeping his appreciative gaze on the gilt object, the king replied "Thank you, Merlin. It's... very seemly."  
He realized his words fell quite short, but it felt unnatural to compliment the servant- especially when said servant was present.

Gathering his presence of mind, he placed the pin back on the table and stood.  
Moving to the pale man's side he slung an arm around his shoulders and began marching him toward the door. "Now, what are you still doing here?"

Merlin, who had been smiling like an idiot, now looked confused and slightly worried.  
"Sire?"

Arthur grinned at him "I'm giving you the next two days off- except for the feast."

Normally the servant would be ecstatic at the news, but the gleam in Arthur's eye was suspicious.  
"Pardon?"

The grin became a smirk.  
"After all, you'll need that time to enjoy your present."

He turned Merlin's head to the doorway where Hunith had appeared, beaming at her son.

"Mother!" He cried, shock and joy evident on his face and a hint of tears in his eyes.

"My son!" Hunith embraced him tightly, crying softly into his shirt.

Merlin looked over her shoulder into his king's eyes.

"Thank you, Arthur" his voice was thick with emotion.

"You deserve it" the reply was barely voiced, but Merlin heard it regardless and his face shone like the sun in response.

Noticing the reaction, Arthur was quick to break up the moment with bluster.  
"Alright, you can take the family reunion elsewhere."

"Of course, Sire." His smile took on an impish cast as he stepped away from his mother. "I'll let Gwen know you'll need her help getting dressed-" he waggled his eyebrows suggestively "or otherwise..."

"Merlin!" Arthur cried, looking to Hunith in shock but only finding her laughing softly at the king's blush.  
The royal looked for something to throw as Merlin ushered Hunith out the door, not quite slamming it behind him.

The king had just let a fond smile creep onto his face when the servant popped his head back in the door.

"Merry Christmas, Arthur."

"Merry Christmas, my friend."


	19. Lifeline

A/N: I forgot last time: 100 reviews! Thanks guys! ...I love all of you *sniff*

Alright, the finale (SPOILER ALERT)- a lot to love, a lot to hate.  
What I want to know is how they were going to continue the series after this- did they have an alternate ending? Maybe go back and explore the 3 years they skipped? What?  
And why Gwaine? If they were going to do that they may as well have offed Percival also, leaving only Leon the immortal. (Perhaps that was a deleted scene, or maybe it happened during/after the credits?)  
I just don't know. But I do know I will miss _Merlin_.  
I plan on writing a tribute piece with a tag/'missing scene'/AU for each episode- we'll see if/when that happens.

Enough of that, next week will be "In Memorium"

* * *

Arthur was falling over the edge, the lip of the cliff crumbling beneath him.

Without needing to think about it Merlin leapt forward, grabbed the king's outstretched hand, and yanked him back onto solid ground- unfortunately, this resulted in the servant taking his place and the pale man soon found himself with nothing but air beneath his feet.

"Merlin!" Arthur was now the one grasping desperately for the other, resulting in both of them hanging precariously over the misty chasm, nothing but rock and a rushing river far, far below them.

The warlock choked as their descent halted abruptly, Arthur now holding on to the cliff edge with one hand and Merlin's neckerchief with the other.  
"Arthur..." he gasped out- he wanted to look up at the man, but that might result in him falling. "Arthur, you need to let go or we'll both fall."

"I'm not going to drop you, idiot." The king growled.

"There's no reason for both of us to die, clotpole." He was beginning to get lightheaded from the lack of proper air supply.

"Neither one of us is going to die, _Mer_lin."

The servant forced his fingers between neck and scarf, it was too tight to slip out of but at least he could pull himself up a bit to breathe better. He tilted his head up to find the king focused on the hand bearing their combined weight.  
"Arthur, look at me."

The king's blue eyes gazed down at him.

"It'll be okay, Arthur." He said, making sure his tone was calm but firm.  
Then he looked away to hide the glow of his eyes as he magically loosened the knot in the fabric, releasing his hold on the neckerchief at the same time.

Merlin saw the royal's face contort in horror as he fell, so he tried to reassure him again.

"I'll be okay." He knew his voice was too soft to be heard but he willed his master to understand regardless.

The warlock had just begun casting the spell to slow his descent and soften his landing when his head struck something hard and his awareness quickly snuffed out.

* * *

Arthur was frozen in shock, staring down into the white mist that had swallowed his friend.  
Nothing penetrated the haze in his mind apart from those last words "I'll be okay"- words he was sure he hadn't heard with his ears, but rather with his heart.

_How is this okay Merlin?_

He was probably imagining it, but he thought he could see a splash of red where the man had hit the rocky outcrop before tumbling out of sight.

_How could you possibly be okay?_

An eternity passed in the moment before Arthur was jarred from his paralysis by the shifting rock beneath his hands. He reached his other hand up to grip the edge, spotting the cloth still clutched in numb fingers as he did so.

He pushed aside his churning feelings, stuffed the neckerchief inside his chain mail, and used both hands to haul himself up onto solid ground where he remained flat on his back, panting with exertion and pent-up emotion.

The clouds drifted by, sailing through the blue above as the king of Camelot watched without truly seeing. Something tickled his neck and he reached up to once again hold the red scarf- now the only thing he had remaining of his best friend.

He continued to lie there well into the night, sobbing bitterly.


	20. In Memorium

A/N: Surprise death fic? I wouldn't do that to you ^_~  
And another (completely unrelated) thing- Why is it that we saw Merlin with Excalibur way more often than Arthur?

Next up- something completely different (undecided, I'm going to try to start _Bound Together_ back up so this fic will become secondary)

* * *

Arthur was staring out the window into the courtyard, red neckerchief pressed to his lips as he inhaled the scent of his lost friend.  
It had only been a few hours since a patrol had come across their king lying on his back with tears streaming down his face.

He had allowed Leon to usher him onto a horse, but ordered the rest to remain and search for Merlin's body under Gwaine's direction.

It was now well past midnight but he wouldn't- _couldn't_ sleep until he saw him again.  
_I should be searching with them._  
He honestly wasn't sure if he could bear the sight of what they'd find.

Glancing away from the empty courtyard he allowed his eyes to rest on his queen- Guinevere had tried to comfort him but had ultimately wound up crying herself to sleep. Arthur felt like he had no tears left, he felt so... empty. His father's words had echoed through his mind as he had lain, mourning for his friend.  
_"No man is worth your tears."_

Merlin was worth so much more.

_Why did I never tell him?_  
He knew the answer to that, of course, but it didn't make the pain any less.  
His stupid, brilliant, loyal-to-a-fault manservant was gone forever and he could no longer tell the man just how much he appreciated him- how much he _needed_ him.  
How was he going to continue after this?  
Could he truly be a great king without him?  
The king Merlin had repeatedly said he would be?

The future seemed so dark now, and there was no longer anyone to tell him everything would be fine.

"_It'll be okay, Arthur."_

"Shut up."  
Merlin's final words had come to him many times in the past hours, but they failed to provide any comfort.  
"Just shut up, Merlin."

He had been wrong, he _did_ have tears left and they were now flowing from his eyes unchecked following the utterance of those familiar words.  
Never again would Merlin speak to him.

_Why did you have to be such a self-sacrificing idiot?_

Sounds of activity drifted in through the window and Arthur turned to watch the slow procession of knights led by a visibly distraught Gwaine.  
Stifling a new wave of emotion he shoved the neckerchief through his belt and went down to meet his men.

"Did you find him?" He asked softly, his tone almost gentle.

Gwaine shook his head, tears in his eyes.  
"The river must have taken him. All we found was this-"  
He held up Merlin's jacket, wet and torn with darker stains on it- blood that had somehow escaped being washed off by the rushing water.

Arthur took the jacket and clutched it to his chest.  
"He- he'll be given a hero's funeral. Tomorrow evening. You should all go now and get some rest."  
The king turned, climbing the stairs and leaving his men to disperse on their own.

Merlin _was_ a hero, and he would make sure everyone knew it. He'd also have to find someone to help Gaius now that his ward was gone- and he'd have to insure Hunith was looked after.

_First I'll have to inform her that I let her only son die._

Shaking himself out of this vein of thought, Arthur sat at his desk and began drawing up official plans and declarations; everything that was needed to soften the impact of Merlin's death as much as possible. The work was therapeutic and the king found himself becoming drowsy, eventually falling asleep with his face planted in the still-wet ink of an official document.

* * *

"_Arthur, help me!"_  
He could hear great pain in the cry, a shout in the all-to-familiar voice of his lost friend.

"I'm sorry, Merlin. So sorry I failed you-"

"_No Arthur, I'm still alive. I need you to find me, I can't get back on my own."_

He knew this had to be wishful thinking, just a dream, but he still felt the hope blossom in his chest.

"Where are you?"

"_A- cave... follow the river."_  
As Merlin spoke, Arthur could see images of the place being described- nothing more than a divot in the cliff face, well away from where the servant had fallen.

"I'll find you, Merlin. Just hold on."

"_Thank you Arthur."_

The voice faded as Arthur woke, sitting up with a sheet of parchment plastered to his face.

"Guards!"  
Two men answered the king's call, standing at attention before him and pointedly _not_ staring at the paper stuck to their monarch's head.

"Dispatch servants to gather a patrol of my closest knights. Have them gather their gear and meet in the courtyard as soon as possible."

"Yes, Sire!" Both men bowed and rushed off to carry out their orders.

Awoken by the noise, Guinevere looked at her husband with concern.  
"What is it, Arthur?"

He snatched the paper from his face and tossed it aside before stepping forward to grasp her arms.  
"Merlin is alive- he spoke to me in a dream."

The queen's face fell and she looked at him with pity.  
"Arthur, you can't do this to yourself. It was only a dream, you need to let him go."

His longing expression was heartbreaking, eyes pleading with his wife for understanding.  
"Guinevere, I _have_ to do this."

She gazed at him sadly for a moment before leaning forward to kiss his forehead.  
"Alright... alright... but don't let this break you."  
She didn't want to wind up tending Arthur as she had his father, left a hollow shell after Morgana's betrayal.

Arthur held her close.  
"I won't. I just- I need to be sure."

Gwen nodded and kissed him again.  
"Be careful."

"Of course, my love. I will return before this evening."  
_Before the memorial._

She watched him leave, still wearing the chain mail he had returned in yesterday.  
"I hope you find him, Arthur." She whispered to the now-empty room.

* * *

Merlin awoke slowly, and soon wished he hadn't.  
The pain in his head was crippling, not that he'd be able to move regardless as he was fairly certain several of his bones were broken.  
The fog in his mind cleared just enough for him to begin remembering what had happened.

_I fell off the cliff... hit my head..._

His half-completed spell must have worked just enough to save his life, and it was pure chance that the river had spit him out- he vaguely remembered dragging himself into this small shelter sometime last night, not quite conscious enough to feel the pain.  
He also remembered calling out to Arthur with his magic.

The warlock thought he should probably feel nervous about that, but found he only felt hopeful.  
_Arthur will find me._

And with that thought he passed into oblivion.

* * *

They had been scouring the banks of the river for almost two hours now and Arthur was beginning to lose hope.

_It really was just a dream..._

"Sire!" Sir Leon was waving, his other arm pointing to a trail of upturned mud.

Arthur sprinted over to him, seeing a cave nearby- _the_ cave. He strode forward, almost afraid to look.  
When he saw the pale form of his servant lying in the muck the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding rushed out all at once and he crashed to the ground at his side.

"Merlin!" His cry failed to draw any reaction from the other man and he reached forward worriedly to search for a pulse.  
Once again he found himself sighing in relief when he felt one- weak as it was.

Immediate concern assuaged he began to check over the prone body, not liking what he found.  
Plenty of the dirt caked on the man was mud, but all too much of it was blood.  
His hair was matted with the liquid from a grievous head wound, his body was covered in cuts and scrapes, and Arthur could see one of Merlin's shin bones poking through skin and torn trousers.

"Oh Merlin..." joy and grief warred on the king's features for a moment before he reined them in, once again taking charge of the situation.

"We need a stretcher, one we can pull behind a horse to bring him home."  
Arthur cursed at himself- he should have thought to bring a wagon and at least a few medical supplies if not Gaius himself.

"We'll get you home, Merlin. Stay with me."  
He could only hope his servant would listen to him for once in his life.

* * *

Merlin awoke with a groan of pain. His body felt incredibly heavy- and it _hurt_.  
He cast his blurry gaze about the room in confusion until the shapes began to resolve themselves into recognizable objects- one of which was of particular interest to him.

"Arthur?" His voice was weak and raspy as if he hadn't used it in days, but the king immediately woke from his light doze.

"Merlin? Are you awake?" His voice was tired and strained, as if he hardly dared to hope.

"Yeah, 'm 'wake. You okay? Look terrible..." Already he was feeling sleepy and could barely form sentences.

The king let out a disbelieving bark of laughter.  
"Says the man with a cast for a body."

The invalid frowned at him, not understanding.

"Merlin, you fell from the cliff, remember? You've been seriously injured. We- we didn't know if you'd make it. You were out for three days."

The royal's tone was serious and laden with emotion. Merlin could see the weight of those three days in the bags under those blue eyes, the unkempt hair, and the outfit which was the same as the last time he had seen him- minus the chain mail Guinevere had forcefully removed.  
The king had a haunted look about him that pulled at the servant's heart.

"'m sorry Arthur."

"Whatever for?"

"Making you worry."

"I'm just glad you're alright... well, you will be."  
The blond reached out and grasped Merlin's right arm- his only cast-free limb.  
"Be sure to never do it again."

"I'd like that." The younger man murmured, already half-asleep.

"You get some more rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

The servant hummed in response, quickly returning to slumber.

Arthur watched him, expression unreadable, then reached into his belt pouch and pulled out the red neckerchief that had been his only comfort during the brief (but all-too-long) time he thought he had lost his friend. "Never again, Merlin" he whispered, making a silent vow to remain vigilant and to make sure the man knew how important he was; the tear-stained fabric would serve as an eternal reminder of what happened when he failed.

"...'ve got ink on your face Arthur." The servant muttered in his sleep.

Arthur laughed silently until the chuckles turned into sobs.


	21. Meteor

A/N: Happy New Year everyone! I present to you a chapter in celebration of 2013 and having restarted my other fic (_Bound Together_).

Chapter 22: "A Typical Patrol"

* * *

The flames blazed higher, completely blocking his usual path to the king's quarters and causing the line of impromptu firefighters to jump back.

"Keep working!" Merlin shouted to them before grabbing a bucket of water from one of them and upending it over his head.

Ignoring the frantic mass of confused knights and citizens he began scaling the wall to Arthur's balcony. The decorative protrusions made fantastic hand- and foot-holds.  
_Someone should probably do something about that._

Reaching the door he found it to be locked- and _hot_.  
Cursing and waving his scorched hand in the air he then removed his wet neckerchief, wrapping it around his damaged member before proceeding to knock the glass out of the door frame.

"Arthur!" He had barely finished his shout before the smoke began to choke him and he coughed.

Briskly shaking the glass shards from his wet scarf he then pressed it to his face and searched the flames desperately.  
_There._

He must have been looking out the window when the odd flaming boulder had crashed into the castle as he now lay sprawled partially beneath a collapsed section of wall near his usual lookout spot.

"Arthur! Merlin!"

Gwen's anguished scream from outside snapped the servant from his momentary panic and he leapt forward, pushing stone off his king with hands and magic. That done he attempted to rouse his friend, patting him on the cheek and calling loudly.

"Arthur... Arthur! You need to wake up, I can't carry you and climb down the wall at the same time!"  
The royal, however, did not stir and Merlin worriedly checked his pulse and breathing, finding them strong and constant.

"Just being lazy then? Fine." The younger tied the neckerchief around the elder's mouth and nose, trying to ignore the speed at which the water was evaporating. With a grunt of effort he hauled Arthur to his feet and half-dragged him to the relative safety of the balcony before re-entering the blazing inferno.

Searching under the largely fire-free bed he located the coil of rope he had once used to help the prat escape from his own window in the middle of the night.  
"Here we go again." He muttered to himself, coughing into his sleeve.

Back on the balcony he tied the rope around the prone king, securing him as well as possible before he leaned over the railing and called to the knights below.  
"Be ready to catch him!"

The billowing smoke was making his eyes and lungs burn but Merlin firmly grasped the other end of the rope, hefting Arthur's dead weight up onto the balcony railing and, seeing the knights waiting expectantly, began gradually lowering the man to their waiting arms. Then he reached the end of the rope, with the king dangling a few feet above his loyal subjects.

How could he have forgotten that it was too short?

His arms and legs were screaming with effort, but he leaned over the edge as far as he could and called down once more.  
"There's no more rope- I have to drop him!"

The men below responded with various shouts of readiness and Merlin released his hold just as an explosion rocked the castle anew. He barely had time to register the fact that he was falling before his body decided that enough was enough, gently sending him into unconsciousness.

* * *

"Merlin?"  
He could only cough in response and he felt strong arms turn him on his side as he began to hack up black mucus.

"Ugh" was all he could say when he had finished.

"Here." Someone handed him a cup of water and helped him sit up to drink it.  
Burning throat now partially soothed he turned to thank his caregiver only to be shocked.

"Arthur!" He looked the man over but found no sign of injury beneath the dust and soot.  
"Are you okay?"

The king huffed.  
"You're the one who decided to pass out and take a swan dive off my balcony."

Merlin's eyes narrowed.  
"And you're the one who was buried in rubble, all set to burn to death in his own bedchambers."

Arthur regarded him with an odd, almost-guilty expression, then he relented.  
"Yes, I'm fine. A bit bruised but otherwise unharmed. You, however, need to be seen by Gaius."

The servant waved his hand dismissively.  
"Just a bit of smoke inhalation. I'm fine now."  
Another coughing fit undermined his assurances.

"Right. Gwaine?"

The knight was at Merlin's side instantly- had probably been there all along, the servant realized- and pulled him to his feet. Arthur stood on his other side and the two warriors half-carried the slight man between them.

"I _can_ walk on my own, you know."

The king opened his mouth to retort but was beaten to it by Gwaine.  
"Just let us help you, Merlin."

The next part he whispered into the servant's ear.  
"Princess woke up just as we caught him- nearly had a heart attack when he saw you falling. We all did, truth be told."

Merlin was touched, and he smiled at Gwaine before turning his grin on Arthur.

The king looked at him suspiciously.  
"Enough chatter, let's get to Gaius before we all die of old age."

"Of course, _Sire_" Merlin's grin only grew wider at Arthur's scowl.


	22. A Typical Patrol

A/N: In case anyone was curious the explosion last chapter was caused when the fire reached the kitchen's flour storage. I was going to mention it in the story but it didn't quite fit in.

Yes I realize this one is about as cliché as they come, but I couldn't pass up such obvious uses for Merlin's poor neckerchief.

And to guest reviewer Leonarema: yeah, I remember reading that they had planned for five seasons from the start. But the pacing was so messed up last series I was really hoping a sixth was a possibility. Judging by the various ways they teased us throughout the years I wouldn't put it past them to be so devious. Also- thank you so much for reading and for your compliments ^_^

Ah! I forgot to mention it last chapter, but I'm aiming for 42 chapters for this so I am now just over half done! Afterward I'll probably start on my collection of tribute one-shots (one for each episode).  
Next chapter will probably be "Furoshiki"

* * *

"Gather some firewood, would you Merlin?"

"Of course, Sire." It was a testament to Arthur's distraction that he had asked politely and the servant was quick to scamper off before the king felt the need to make up for it by tossing something at him.

He had accumulated a respectable pile when he heard someone sneaking up behind him.  
Whirling about, he was just in time to get clubbed in the face rather than the back of the head and he dropped to the ground in a heap, sticks scattered around and atop his body.

He endeavored to focus his mind enough to repel his attackers, but was barely managing to remain conscious. His four attackers- he thought there were four, anyway, but he wasn't _entirely_ certain that he wasn't seeing double- grinned menacingly. One of them (not double vision then?) reached forward and yanked off his neckerchief, cutting it into strips with his belt knife.

Still struggling to even lift his arm, let alone cast a spell, Merlin was unable to resist as they utilized his own scarf to bind and gag him, using the last piece to cover his eyes.

_Well this is just perfect._ He thought as the slight sunlight filtering through his blindfold was replaced by complete darkness.

* * *

"Merlin has been gone too long." Gwaine proclaimed, staring at the empty fire ring he had created in anticipation of his friend's return.

"What?" Arthur looked around as if only just realizing that it was beginning to get dark and his manservant had yet to appear.

"I'm going to look for him." Gwaine stood and began marching for the trees.

"Wait- we'll go as a group. Percival, you stay with the horses."  
The giant knight nodded, taking up his new position as sentry while the rest of the patrol began tracking their missing member.

...

"Here!" Gwaine called from his position at the front of the group.

Catching up to him Arthur found what had drawn the knight's attention- an abandoned collection of firewood and signs of a body being dragged away. A bleeding body.

The royal clenched his teeth.  
"No time to lose- on me!"  
He motioned his men forward with grim determination, stalking through the darkening woods as swiftly and silently as a cat.

* * *

All was noise and confusion as Merlin woke to the dark, sounds of a scuffle all around him.  
His head swam painfully and all he could really be sure of was that he was lying on the ground.

Then the sound of someone crashing down into the leaves beside him made him jump.  
"Merlin! Are you okay?"

Calloused hands pulled the gag from his mouth.

"Arthur?" His head swiveled toward the voice and he winced in pain, flinching further as the blindfold was removed and the light of a nearby fire assaulted his eyes.

"Are you okay?" The king repeated, the sounds of battle quickly fading in the background.

"Head hurts" he answered, eyes drooping.

"Stay awake, Merlin. Look at me."  
The servant complied, bleary eyes rising to gaze in Arthur's general direction.  
"That is a lot of blood..."  
The king murmured worriedly as he removed the makeshift rope from Merlin's hands.

"Tha's reassuring." He slurred in reply.

Arthur's frown deepened before he disappeared from Merlin's vision- leaving him to stare at the stars in delirious wonder.

Merlin heard water splashing nearby and then Arthur was back, wiping at his forehead with a folded bit of the former-neckerchief.

The king looked apologetic as his patient hissed in pain.  
"Sorry, but I have to clean it- they dragged you most of the way here and all manner of dirt has gotten into the wound."

The servant only hummed in response, beginning to fade once again.

"You've got to stay awake, Merlin." Gwaine's sudden voice and presence startled Merlin back into relative alertness.

Apparently finished cleansing the wound, Arthur folded another section of scarf- one that Merlin recognized as having been a gag only a moment before- and was about to press it to the servant's head when said manservant decided to protest.

"Arthur, tha' waz-in my mouth."

The king surveyed his makeshift bandage with suspicious nonchalance.  
"You know, I think you're right."  
He promptly bound it to the head wound with another strip of fabric.

"Why coul'n't you've used-a diff'ren' piece?" The invalid lamented.

"Payback."


	23. Furoshiki

A/N: And IndiaMoore has identified the usage :)

Black Gloves: Thank you :)

So I recently purchased Sims 3: Supernatural and made a magical Merlin sim :)  
His current wishes include playing with magic, being nuzzled by his horse, and kissing Freya.  
I also set an Arthur sim loose in the town so once they meet I'll have Merlin promise to protect him :D

Next up: I'm thinking either "Olé" or "Black Magic"

* * *

Merlin hummed to himself as he strolled through the market, spare neckerchief in one hand with neighboring corners tied together to form a carrying sack. He had already collected all of the items on Gaius' list and was now simply avoiding returning to the castle (where more chores would be waiting).

The sound of distressed crying reached his ears and the servant peered around a stall, spotting a young woman weeping over a scattered pile of books, many of which appeared to be covered in mud.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly.

The woman started, clearly not having noticed his presence.

Scrubbing at her tears with one hand she averted her eyes and nodded.  
"Fine, just tripped."

"Let me help you with those." He set down his burden and knelt in front of her to help collect the fallen tomes.

"Oh no! Master would be quite wroth with me if he knew I let someone touch his precious books!"

Merlin shot her a disarming smile.  
"Then I suppose we shouldn't tell him."

Being offered kindness seemed to be the last straw for the poor maid, however, and she once again dissolved into sobs.  
"Master will never forgive me for ruining these!"

Tugging the scarf from his neck, Merlin leaned toward her and gently wiped her tears.  
"It's not as bad as all that. We'll have them good as new in no time."

Leaving the blue cloth in the woman's shaking hands he turned aside, picking the books up one by one and pretending to brush the mud off with his hands as he magicked the muck away.  
"See? Nothing to worry about."

Her eyes were startled and deeply grateful as she took in the sight of the now-clean volumes.  
"Oh thank you, sir, how can I-"

He forestalled her rush of gratitude with a raised hand "just Merlin, please, and there's no need to thank me. Now, where are you going?"

The woman looked slightly confused but answered regardless.  
"The apothecary's, but why-?"

"Right then, best be on our way."

Reclaiming his slightly moist neckerchief, Merlin placed it on the ground and stacked the books in the center before bringing up opposing corners and tying them together to form a neat package.

Grasping the knots as a handle he hefted the books and Gaius' items, heading off in the direction of the apothecary shop.

"Oh, si- Merlin, you don't have to do that!"

The servant only smiled at her.  
"But I want to. These are very heavy, it's no wonder you had trouble with them."

The maid blushed and thanked him, quietly following the rest of the way.

* * *

The next day Merlin was passing through the courtyard, empty tray awaiting Arthur's lunch in-hand, when Sir Gwaine bounded up beside him, an odd green package tucked into the crook of his arm.

"Merlin!" He greeted jovially. "I was patrolling the town earlier when a pretty young thing handed me this- said it was for you." The knight winked and nudged the thinner man with his elbow.

Tucking the tray under an arm and taking the bundle, he realized there was a note.  
The words were scrawled in the spidery hand of the apothecary, though it was clear he was merely the scribe as they read:  
_Thank you, Merlin. I hope we have opportunity to meet again in future. ~Clara_

The gift was clearly a bottle of something, two corners of the wrapping cloth forming a bow in front while the other two were twisted into a carrying loop on top.

"Well aren't you going to open it?" Gwaine asked impatiently, having been staring over his friend's shoulder unabashedly.

The servant gave him a look that was somehow half smile and half scowl before working the fabric loose, leaving him with a new green neckerchief in one hand and a bottle of fine wine in the other.

The knight chuckled and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.  
"I think this is her way of saying she wants to get you drunk and have her way with you."

Merlin tossed the tray at him.


	24. Olé

A/N: Glacier22 and Thomson both guessed the usage- congrats! It didn't turn out as interesting as it seemed in my head, but I hope you all enjoy it regardless.

Also, someone requested that I post a picture of my _Merlin_ sims so I put a link to my sims3 gallery in my profile if anyone would like to see them. And if you happen to play Sims 3- feel free to add me as a friend! (And yes, I made Freya a fairy- I didn't want to make her a ghost and making her a werewolf somehow didn't even occur to me until later.)

JustAnotherFan: Thanks for the review! I'm glad I could brighten your day :) An earlier short (#6. Inner Child) actually did make reference to Arthur using it as a napkin. I may write that up in more detail later, but we'll see.

Leonarema: Yeah, it's an HG reference like the summary :)

Next entry: "Black Magic"

* * *

"Arthur!"  
The minotaur was charging toward the king, who had yet to regain his feet after the beast's previous rush.

In a sudden stroke of inspiration Merlin whipped the red scarf from his neck and held it out with both hands, gently waving it as he called to the half-man/half-bull.  
"Over here! Come and get me!"

King Arthur, knowing Merlin as he did, was well aware the man likely had no plan of action beyond getting the minotaur to switch targets and so his alarm increased dramatically at the sight of the beast running headlong toward his servant.  
"Merlin!"

He could do nothing aside from yell as the horned head lowered and hit the younger man square in the chest, tossing him up into the air above the monster.

Merlin, meanwhile, was rather shocked and gratified that his slapdash strategy had worked at all and was already sailing through the sky before his brain started working again (at which point he took another moment to appreciate his thin form which had fit perfectly between the wickedly sharp horns).

Neckerchief still grasped in both hands, he flung his arms out and looped the fabric around the minotaur's head to blind it. Confused, the creature stood stock-still for a moment before it began to run and jerk violently, intent on removing the obstruction.

The minotaur had just remembered it had arms and was reaching up to grab the manservant when Arthur called to him and he leapt clear as Excalibur pierced the bare, hairy chest.

The king watched the now-still beast for a few moments before he was satisfied it was dead.  
Turning to Merlin he checked the man over for injuries and, finding none, slapped the back of his head.

Overriding the peasant's petulant protests, the royal launched into a heated lecture.  
"Why do you have to be such an idiot? You are seriously going to get yourself killed one of these days the way you leap in without thinking- unless you give me a heart attack first! How many times do I have to tell you? You are _not_ a knight, you _are not_ trained, and _I _do not need _you_ to protect me!"

Arthur continued in that vein for several minutes before realizing Merlin was grinning at him.  
_Grinning_. The idiot.

"And just _what_ are you so happy about, _Mer_lin?"

"Good to know you care, _Sire_."

Letting out an exasperated yell, the king of Camelot stomped off, leaving Merlin to follow after him- knowing the servant always would.


	25. Respite

A/N: Alright, no "Black Magic" this time. I tried starting it but it kept coming out entirely too similar to llLethell's "A Servant of One" (which is an excellent piece and you should all read it- it's on my favorite's list for your relative convenience) so that one's been shelved for now. So for now enjoy this!

Chapter 26? Hmmm... "Photo Finish" maybe

* * *

Merlin was in the dungeons again, but it was perfectly alright.  
The charges were absolutely ludicrous and everyone knew it- which is probably why he was in the second-best cell.

This cell had an actual bed with straw-stuffed mattress, pillows, and blankets. That's right, plural.  
It was mid-summer and the stone space was pleasantly cool despite the harsh sun coming through the barred window.

The servant knew he would be here at least a day, possibly more- however long it took for the lord he'd somehow offended to return to his own lands- so he resolved to make the most of the situation.

Whipping off his dark blue neckerchief, he began stuffing the edge of the material into the crumbling mortar surrounding the window, effectively blocking most of the light.

Merlin nodded in satisfaction before curling up on the cot.  
_And now for a much-deserved rest._

Perhaps he should offend visiting nobles more often?


	26. Photo Finish

A/N: mistwolf42 was halfway there- honorable mention, I suppose

I feel like I've been too indulgent with myself writing these things- it makes it harder to work on _Bound Together_... but then, that piece is being difficult right now. I know what I want to put in the next chapter, it just refuses to play nice and fit together well. Blargh.  
Also, I think prison bird!Merlin should be a thing.

Oh well, in the meantime I wrote this for you- this was, once again, a story that completely got away from me as I typed. It's rather different so I hope it works alright.

* * *

"So what is this supposed to train, exactly?"

"_This_ is an exercise in teamwork and coordination, _Mer_lin- I should think that much would be obvious."

"Right. So why am I participating?"

"If anyone needs to improve their coordination, Merlin, it's you."

"Let me rephrase- why am I paired with _you_?"

"Everyone is matched according to size. It's unfortunate but we are nearly the same height."

"I'm still taller, though."

"I could fix that... maybe take a foot or so off the top..."

"Are you threatening to behead me for being taller than you?"

"Among other things."

"Well that's _real_ mature, Sire. I'm so glad the kingdom is in the hands of such a benevolent ruler."

"Just shut up and take off your scarf."

"Why do I have to take off my scarf?"

"It'll be a lot more comfortable than rope, don't you think?"

"You know what would be even _more_ comfortable? Not doing this at all."

"_Hon_estly Merlin, the race will have been started and finished by the time we're ready if you keep on like this. Just hurry up and tie it."

…

"There. Happy now?"

…

"Merlin."

"What?"

"I'm on the right- we need to switch places."

"Really, Arthur?"

"Just do it, Merlin."

"Fine."

…

"Is this acceptable, _Sire?_"

"I suppose it's about as good as I can expect from this situation."

"_You're_ the one who wanted to hold this race."

"Let's just get to the starting line- and stop being such a _girl_ about this."

"Says the man who needs to stand on the left."

"Shut up, Merlin, or I _will_ have you in the stocks for the rest of the morning."

"Merely an observation, my lord."

"Is everyone ready? Alright then- go!"

…

"I can't believe you tripped already, Merlin- you're supposed to start with the leg that's tied!"

"Well don't you think you should have _told _me that?"

"_Everyone_ knows that, idiot- Percival! Carrying your partner _is not_ allowed!"

"Well, are we going to get up or are we just going to lie here in defeat?"

"You know what? I think I'll keep the embarrassment to a minimum and just give up now. _You_ have enough trouble standing _without_ any added complications- I'd hate to see what would happen if you were to try now."

"Fine. I'll just take my neckerchief and bugger off then, shall I?"

...

"Merlin?"

"Yes, _my lord_?"

"The stocks are the other way."


	27. It Wasn't the Humidity

A/N: Best part of the previous chapter? I hardly had to fix any of the formatting after uploading it :)  
Just realized I forgot to forecast this chapter... nope, don't feel guilty about it at all.  
I'll still predict chapter 28, though. "They've Taken the Castle"  
Hint: It's a _Robin Hood: Men in Tights_ reference, no armies are involved.

* * *

Merlin plunged his neckerchief into the pool of still-cool water that had collected below the pump, laying the sopping-wet cloth atop his head with a sigh of contentment.

"You look like an idiot."

The servant couldn't see who was speaking through the dark blue fabric- not that he had to.

"But I feel like a genius- a blessedly cool genius."  
He felt a heavy hand clap him on the shoulder.

"Let's see how you feel after a go on the training grounds."

Merlin peeled up a corner to fix his sovereign with a measuring glance.  
"Are you sure that's a good idea, Sire? You do realize I won't be able to carry you to Gaius once you collapse from the heat."

The king rolled his eyes.  
"I'm hardly going to faint like a _girl_, Merlin. A little bit of sun never hurt anyone- you could certainly stand to get more of it."

"Fine, just don't be surprised when I say 'I told you so'."

"Just shut up and get my armor- and the practice shield. You'll have the honor of being the target today!" The blond smiled brightly and slapped his servant on the back, effectively pushing him along.

"Yes, I'm _so_ honored..." Merlin grumbled, scurrying off to carry out his assignment.

* * *

Armor retrieved and neckerchief refreshed with newly-pumped water, Merlin hefted the shield, the pleasant cooling presence of the scarf now folded and re-tied about his neck.

"Ready when you are, Sire."

Arthur merely grunted in response and the two began the familiar dance of attack and block, advance and retreat- an exercise the pair had completed hundreds of times since Merlin had become manservant to a prattish prince all those years ago. But this time the swordsman made a change toward the end of their routine, nearly resulting in the servant getting his leg sliced open before he quickly leapt back.

"That was- Arthur?"

The king's eyes were drooping and seemed unfocused; his sword rested against the ground, barely held in gauntlet-clad fingers that had gone lax. Sweat poured off his face- more than their activity warranted.

"Arthur?" Merlin dropped the shield and came forward to catch his friend as he made a rapid descent toward the grass. Struggling under the dead-weight, the servant still managed to lie the king on the ground with relative gentleness.

"I _told_ you, you clotpole" he said in frustration and worry, removing his still-wet neckerchief and using it to bathe the royal's face- leaving it there as he began to quickly remove the heated metal encasing the prone man.

"You _really_ need to lose some weight" Merlin grunted as he dragged his burden across the training grounds and into the castle.

"Guards!"

Two soldiers came rushing into the corridor, brandishing their swords at the sight of their king lying on the floor.  
"He needs to be taken to Gaius. Help me."

Normally the guards would have objected to being ordered about by a servant, but this was a rather special situation.

* * *

Once he was settled on a cot in the physician's chambers, Arthur began to rouse.  
"Merlin?"

The servant was already next to the bed, holding a cup of water which he forced on the king- who drank it greedily.

"What happened?"

"Well, _Sire_, I believe you fainted like a girl."

Arthur glared at him balefully.

A twinkle in his eye, Merlin opened his mouth "I to-"

"Shut up, Merlin."


	28. They've Taken the Castle

A/N: Yeah, this title is a bit convoluted, isn't it? I didn't really give people much chance to guess either.  
Also, you notice how having trouble with _BT_ leads to a rush of updates for this one? Yeah.  
This chapter sort of incorporates an idea mentioned by Kyrinea as an aside, just to give credit :)  
And yes, we're going from blazing heat back to freezing cold- I've given Camelot bizarre weather patterns for my own convenience.

Next time... hmmm... "Valley Forge" I think

* * *

Merlin shivered in his little cot, curled up as tight as he could get under his single blanket.  
He briefly considered lying directly on the bed frame and using the mattress as another blanket, but then his back would be cold so that idea was right out.

At the start of the cold snap he had left his door open to allow some of the heat from the fire in Gaius' room to reach him, but he had noticed his guardian shivering from the draft on those nights and had refrained from that slight comfort ever since.

It was clear he wasn't going to be able to sleep like this, so the servant rose from his cot and moved to his wardrobe. He was already wearing all the shirts he owned along with both pairs of trousers, but there was still a small stack of neckerchiefs in the wooden cabinet. Taking the fabric squares he moved to the window and began using them to stop up the various gaps and cracks through which the winter wind was howling.

Satisfied with his work (and having no more scarves to sacrifice to the cause), Merlin climbed back into bed and fell asleep in the relative warmth.

* * *

That didn't mean he wasn't happy to reach the royal chambers the next morning, where the fire had been kept cheerily blazing all night long.

"Rise and shine, Sire!" He cried, flinging open the curtains as per usual.

"Merlin..." The king grumbled and rolled over, burying his face in his pillow before suddenly turning back around to stare at his servant.

"Is something wrong, Sire?"

"Where is your neckerchief?"

The servant rolled his eyes.  
"We're not going to have _this_ conversation again, are we?"

"Merlin, it's freezing cold, why aren't you wearing one of your ridiculous scarves?"

It was clear the prat wasn't going to let this go, so he answered truthfully (though somewhat hesitantly).  
"I had to use them all... to plug the holes in my wall."

"Well I don't like it."

"My lord?" Merlin was beginning to question if Arthur was truly awake, or if perhaps he should fetch Gaius.

"It doesn't look right."

The servant was at a loss for words and beginning to worry about his king's priorities (to say nothing of his sanity).

"The royal mason shall see to your chambers later today and I'll have someone bring up a brazier. Now get out of here- and don't come back until you've covered that chicken-neck of yours. I can dress myself today."

Merlin was so shocked he was halfway back to his room before it occurred to him that he may be dreaming- or perhaps he froze to death in his sleep and this was some bizarre afterlife?

He was still shaking his head and trying to puzzle it out when he entered the physician's workroom.

Gaius looked up from his breakfast.  
"What is it Merlin? Surely the king didn't give you time off?"

Seeing his ward's dazed look, the elder got up and followed the younger man into his room; taking in the spots of color dotting his wall.

"He didn't give _me_ time off, but I think his _mind_ might be taking a vacation..."

"_Mer_lin!"

The servant turned to look at his guardian, surprised at the level of shock in his tone, and saw the man plucking one of the scarves from its place.

"I didn't know you had an orange one!"


	29. Valley Forge

A/N: As I was writing the end of the last one I kept imagining Merlin flipping out, waving his arms like a madman, and screaming "What is going on here?!"  
A while back I saw some backstage _Merlin_ photo where he was wearing an orange shirt and blue/grey neckerchief... it was odd.

JustAnotherFan: Yeah, I've mentioned it before, but one of the upcoming chapters will be featuring a parachute of sorts.

Also, this chapter contains a rather twisted implementation of an idea by photo100.

For those who didn't get the title reference, here's a summation: near the beginning of _Robin Hood: Men in Tights_ Robin returns home only to find his castle being wheeled away, leaving his blind servant Blinkin in its wake. Approaching the man, he informs him that "they've taken the castle" to which he replies "I thought it felt a bit drafty." Yeah. Most of my titles stem from random associations I make with a relevant word or happening within the chapter. Like this one!

I learned about Valley Forge in... 4th grade, I think. What stuck in my mind most firmly was that it was cold and only 1/3 of Washington's men had shoes- hence the association.

I may have mentioned this before, but I made up a big list of uses prior to beginning this collection of shorts and even though 'shoe replacement' was on there I wasn't going to write one for it after I wound up making the scarf a glove replacement in "Frozen". But then this story basically attacked me and held my brain hostage- it's all I've been able to think about since my last update.  
So here we are :)  
(tl;dr?)

Next Chapter: "Hear no Evil"

* * *

Though it was winter, there was little sign of it aside from the cold winds and naked trees. At least, that was the case in the city of Camelot and surrounding forests.

Here in the White Mountains, however, the snow lay thick and heavy; making the small mountain pass even more treacherous to navigate.

"Why did we take this route again?"  
Merlin asked, voice muffled by the spare scarf he had wrapped around his face to ward off the biting chill. This particular section of the trail was little more than a goat track, a steep drop to a swift end awaiting anyone making a misstep- the servant eyed the edge warily.

"Because, _Mer_lin, Morgana is sure to have people watching the river and the great pass- the plains, of course, are completely out of the question. This is the only way to be sure she doesn't see us heading for Gedref." The king tilted his chin in consideration. "Unless you _wanted_ to skirt the mountains and follow the Valley of the Fallen Kings the whole way."

"Oh yes, I'm sure that would have gone _much_ better."  
The servant muttered, pulling his jacket tighter around his shivering form.

Arthur turned to Gwaine, using rather too loud of a voice for the conspiratorial tone he was projecting.  
"You see? Never satisfied. I think he'd be miserable if he had nothing to complain about."

The knight was about to respond when an almighty 'crack' had them all staring above in horror as a shelf of ice, snow, and rock broke free from the mountain and began rushing toward them.

"Run!" Arthur yelled, spotting the relative shelter of an overhanging rock ledge a short distance ahead of the group.

The horses, eyes rolling in fear, screamed their protest as they were urged into a gallop on the untrustworthy trail.

Merlin and Arthur had been at the rear of the group and were relieved to see the other knights reach safety ahead of them.

"Come on, Merlin!" The king yelled, looking over his shoulder to his servant just as the younger man's mount, taking after his master, stumbled; back legs slipping off the mountain ridge into the open air beyond.

Without even thinking Arthur wheeled his own horse about, reaching an arm out to his desperately flailing friend. The two had just grasped each other's forearms when the avalanche hit.

"Arthur!" Merlin yelled in panic, frantically looking for anything that would save them.

Spotting a small hole in the cliff-face, the servant yanked on the king's arm and dove from his saddle, pulling them both clear of their doomed horses and into the relative safety of the cave.

He thought he might have heard Arthur shouting, but the sound was quickly drowned out.  
Even the sound of his own screaming was beyond his hearing as he felt his leg being crushed under ice and stone.

* * *

Merlin woke abruptly- at least, he was assuming he had blacked out since the sound of the avalanche had passed and all was now eerily silent- and fought to contain his own cries at the renewed pain.

Hoping to distract himself, he looked about the small space for Arthur.  
There was just enough light filtering through the wall of white to make out a king-shaped lump a couple feet in front of him and the servant reached forward to prod the metal mass.

"Arthur." Finding his voice to be an embarrassing combination of gasp and whimper, Merlin tried again, more firmly.  
"Arthur!"

The panic was back full force and the warlock created a small fire in his palm without even thinking.

"Oi, dollophead!" He shook the royal's shoulder with his flame-free hand, blond head lolling to the side to reveal a freely-bleeding head wound.

"Great, another head injury." Resting his forehead against the rocky ground, Merlin gathered himself.  
"Well, no use indulging in self-pity. Time to save us both- again."

Bracing himself against the cave floor he began to pull his left leg free of the debris, not even bothering to contain his pained yells as further feeling flooded into the mangled limb. Foot clear, he found (rather unhappily) that his boot and sock had elected to remain outside and he made a slight effort to dig them out before realizing his every move caused the snow to shift unpredictably.

"Right. Well I'm sure I won't be needing them any time soon."

Short breaths whistling through his clenched teeth, Merlin removed the scarf from his face and began tearing it into strips, muttering to himself.  
"Maybe I'll just start wearing bandages around my neck... start a new fashion trend..."

Using a bit of snow, the physician's apprentice gently scrubbed the king's head wound and bound it securely after using a touch of magic to stop the bleeding.

That done, he looked at his own injury properly for the first time; hissing at what he saw.  
"Well this isn't good."

He'd always been skilled at stating the obvious.

From the knee down his leg was a mass of cuts and bruises, the ankle was definitely broken, and the foot likely was as well.

"Okay, Merlin, you can handle this." He cheered himself on, tugging the scarf from his neck and adding it to the pile of scraps the other neckerchief had become.

Luckily, he had been wearing a short-sword; Arthur's sword and sheath had been attached to his saddle for ease of use while riding but Merlin had elected to keep his hanging from his belt. The sheath would pass as a splint until something more appropriate could be found.

It was at this point he noticed just how labored his breathing had become, leading him to realize there was no air passing into their small haven.

He looked from the sword in his hands to the icy blockade in front of him. Hopefully the fact that light was still reaching them meant the wall wasn't too thick to punch through.

Struggling up onto his right knee, Merlin pulled back and plunged the sword as far into the snow as he could, then slowly began wiggling it back and forth to widen the hole.

Drawing the weapon out he was gratified to see a tiny patch of sky and feel fresh air filtering in- though he was none too happy about the subsequent drop in temperature.

Merlin tied a strip of red fabric to the end of the sword and poked it back through the gap, hoping it would catch the eyes of their companions. He wanted to yell through the hole, but didn't want to risk another snow-slide.

Shifting his position gingerly, he bound his leg to the sword sheath as tightly as his chilled fingers could manage and wrapped his foot and ankle as thoroughly as his limited supply of bindings allowed. Once finished with these tasks all his energy seemed to leave him and Merlin spiraled into darkness.

* * *

He was only out a short time before waking once more, taking in the light that was still pouring in through the hole he had made.

Dragging himself across the cave floor he checked on his companion. His pulse was strong and constant, his breathing steady, and no blood was showing through the bandage on his head.

"Still sleeping, cabbage head? You really are a royal pain."  
He shook the king lightly, patting his cheek and calling out to him repeatedly but receiving no response.

"I'm really getting tired of this, you know. I'm pretty certain hauling you about is _not_ in my list of servant's duties." He cast about the limited space, shivering violently. "Still, we can't stay here much longer with no food, water, or fire..."

Resigning himself to another bout of tortuous activity, the warlock numbed his pain as much as he could and began carefully digging through the snow at the cave entrance; stopping any time the debris shifted unfavorably. He had hoped to locate his boot during his excavations, but the footwear remained stubbornly absent. _Of course_.

He poked his head out into the open air and gazed about but neither saw nor heard any signs of life nearby. Reclaiming his sword, he untied the last scrap of fabric and used it to wrap his toes and heel, hoping the cloth would be enough to serve as a temporary shoe.

"Come on then, Sire, time to leave." Unfastening the king's empty sword belt Merlin bound the royal's hands together and looped the mailed arms over his own head, leaning heavily on the sword as he stood.

With Herculean effort, the warlock began dragging his charge out into the snow-covered world beyond; eyes blazing gold as he reinforced his shaking limbs and pushed the agony into the back of his mind.

He wanted to climb directly back to the path from which they had fallen, but found the rocky snow to be too unstable for that. And so, following a meandering path of relatively safe trails he eventually reached the pass and began heading back toward where the knights had taken shelter from the avalanche, grateful that the snow was now only a few inches deep as opposed to the two- or three-foot depths he had previously been struggling through.

For the first thirty minutes or so he had felt the shards of ice and stone cutting into his foot and he thought perhaps he should be worried that he no longer felt anything from the limb- but frankly he was just happy there was less pain to deal with. It was taking all of his willpower to simply keep putting one foot in front of the other.

"Merlin."

The servant jerked in surprise, not quite stifling his pained grunt.  
Still, he had to be thankful, without even realizing it he had been falling asleep- something that would likely have resulted in both of their deaths.

"Merlin? Are you alright?"

"Yeah," he gasped out "you?"

Arthur hummed as if he had to think about it.  
"I think so. What's going on?"

His tone was oddly detached and Merlin expected he wasn't yet all there.  
"There was an avalanche. We're looking for the rest of the knights."

"That's nice." The king responded dreamily, his head flopping so he was looking at the trail behind them- he noticed that every other foot print was red.

"Is this why you've only been wearing red scarves when we go out?"

The servant didn't even try to hide his confusion. "What?"

"Because of the blood." The blond head was now looking down at Merlin's feet.  
"You're bleeding, Merlin."

Arthur's head was clearing quickly as the situation (along with the cold air) penetrated the haze in his mind.

Merlin, meanwhile, was marveling that Arthur somehow managed to be _more_ perceptive whilst suffering from a head wound- and that he chose such a ridiculous thing to observe as the color of his neckerchiefs.

The servant stopped walking.  
"Arthur, can you walk on you own? It shouldn't be far to where we split from the knights."

Apparently not having noticed he was being dragged up until that moment, Arthur replied indignantly.  
"Of course I can walk, Merlin."

"Good, because I don't think I can anymore."  
That said, he promptly collapsed to the frozen ground, taking the king along with him.

"Merlin!" Arthur pulled his arms from around the servant's neck and fought with his belt until his hands were free.

"Merlin?" He flipped his friend over, truly taking in the state of his leg for the first time. "You _idiot_."

The king was about to pick the man up to continue their journey when he heard the shouting of familiar voices.

"Sire!"  
"Merlin!"

The knights came into view just ahead of the pair, digging their way through a small snow bank to reach them.

Leon strode forward first, dropping down beside his king.  
"Sire, what happened?"

"I'm not entirely sure, we got swept over the side- Merlin pulled us to safety. The rocks... When I woke up he was carrying me."

The knight commander took in the sight of the servant's mangled appendage.  
"How on earth-?"

"Because it's Merlin." Gwaine replied, also crouching down beside his king and best friend.

Arthur let out an exasperated huff of laughter.  
"That's about all that can be said, isn't it?"

The other two knights matched his worried smile.

"Come on, let's get this idiot somewhere safe and warm-" seeing Merlin beginning to stir slightly, he continued "if there even _is_ somewhere safe for someone so clumsy."

"Prat." The servant mumbled, face scrunched in discomfort.

The king leaned forward to murmur in his ear.

"Just relax, Merlin. We'll take care of you."

The servant hummed lightly in response, drifting into slumber with the feeling of warm, comforting hands bearing him forth.


	30. Hear No Evil

A/N: 200+ Reviews! I love you guys :D I'm pretty sure I missed a slew of review replies for the past few chapters, so I hope you'll forgive me- I'm still very thankful even if I don't reply, I promise!

Chapter 31? "Fundoshi" (If you don't know what this is, I would recommend not looking it up. Just to avoid any potentially disturbing images- depending on where you look [and your imagination])

* * *

"... that's why The Rising Sun is number four, _maybe_ number 3 in my 'top ten taverns' list. It would probably be higher if it weren't so easy for princess to find me there. Now, The Blushing Maiden- _that_ is a tavern. Even better than The Dusty Broom! Why, the last time I was there..."

"Gwaine, if you don't _shut up_ I am going to throw you in the dungeons as soon as we return to Camelot- and I'll leave you there for a month with no mead!"

"You know the guards would just sneak me some to keep me quiet." Gwaine grinned and winked at his king.

The worst part is that it was true- and Gwaine would probably _enjoy_ a month away from practice and knightly duties.

As the rogue began telling tales about the various places he's woken up naked, Arthur turned to Merlin with pleading eyes.

"Can't you get him to stop?" He knew he was whining, but these were desperate times.

The servant kept riding, not even acknowledging his master.

"Merlin."

Arthur pursed his lips at the man's continued lack of response before casually reaching over and shoving him from the saddle.

"Ow! What was that for, you prat?" Merlin cried, his neckerchief fluttering to the ground as he stood up.

"You were ignoring me."

"No, I simply couldn't _hear_ you, _Sire_."

"I find that rather hard to believe."

"Well I had to do something!"

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Gwaine's prattle was going to drive me mad if I didn't find some way of blocking it out!"

_Finally_, something they could agree on.  
"So? How did you do it?"

"What?"

"Block out this idiot's inane drivel!"  
He flapped his hand in Gwaine's general direction.

"Oh. Like this-"

He picked up his neckerchief and screwed the ends into his ears.

Arthur couldn't believe he hadn't noticed before- the man looked absolutely _ridiculous._  
But still, if it worked...

"Merlin, I order you to relinquish your scarf to me."

The servant had left the fabric in his ears and was now pretending he didn't realize the king was still speaking so Arthur yanked the cloth from those over-large ears and stuffed it into his own.

He almost sighed in relief.  
It was clear Merlin was now complaining and probably insulting him, but that didn't matter now that he was wrapped in a world of blissful silence.

The idiot, meanwhile, had pulled another scarf from his saddlebag and secured it before rejoining the procession.

The tormented audience looked upon them with jealousy as Gwaine started in on a story of the time he found his best friend being tickled to death by children in the lower town.


	31. Fundoshi

A/N: Ah, green apple soda, how I love thee :)  
As I began trying to compose this one my only thoughts were "why did this ever seem like a good idea?" But I finally managed to come up with a more-or-less acceptable scenario.  
Hope you like it :)

Next time... as-yet unnamed. I decided to go with the fluffy version of "Geronimo" so this next piece will be the adventure half that got cut off.  
Placeholder title: "Rambo"

* * *

"Come on, Merlin- you lost the bet, now you have to pay the price."

"Just wait a minute."

"How long could it possibly take to get those clothes off?"

"Just. Wait."

Arthur, listening intently at the door (in case the servant should try to escape his fate), heard the sound of muttered curses and chortled to himself.

Yes, he may have slipped Merlin some 'special' mead to ensure he couldn't even _see_ the dice, let alone predict them; but only because the little sneak had made a habit of robbing him blind at the tables. He may not have any idea _how_ Merlin was cheating, but he simply _had_ to be. No one was _that_ lucky.

It may have been going a bit too far to goad the man into continuing to gamble after he had run out of coin- but it was worth it to embarrass him a bit.

The door cracked open, pulling the king out of his gleeful remembrance.  
He stared at Merlin disapprovingly, lips pulling into a pout.

Around the servant's hips was twisted a length of red fabric, modestly hanging down in the front and back.

"The terms clearly stated that you could wear _nothing_ but your neckerchief, _Mer_lin."

"You didn't say I had to wear it around my neck."  
The servant said, confidently striding out on his way to the courtyard.

A crowd of knights- and a few giggling maids- was gathered there in wait, having heard what was about to transpire.

Merlin walked brazenly to the center, pointedly ignoring the occasional look of disappointment on the faces of the onlookers.

Taking a deep breath, he loudly announced "I am an idiot and I will be putting on an act for you as recompense to His Illustrious Majesty, King Arthur Pendragon! Please enjoy!"

He then proceeded to show off his juggling skills and- at Arthur's insistence- his lack of tumbling ability.

The servant took it all with good grace, already planning how to get his revenge.

And if Arthur Pendragon were to be honest with himself, he'd admit to finding his servant's malicious grin downright frightening.


	32. Black Magic

A/N: So... this happened instead. *Shrugs* What can ya do?  
I think switching between calling Arthur 'prince' and 'king' for my different fics is twisting my brain.

Just a heads up: there may not be any further chapters (of anything) this week since I'll be visiting family. Just so you know. This one is nice and long though, if that makes you feel better :) Seriously, as its own fic I probably would have written this as five or six (small) chapters.

Maybe I'll have come up with a better title for 'Rambo' by the time I write it...

* * *

The king sighed as he pushed aside the stack of reports he had just finished, staring longingly at the door. Any minute now Merlin should be coming through it with a nice hot lunch, maybe even a bit of wine. In fact, he really should have arrived some time ago, but Arthur was feeling a bit guilty after loading him with extra chores that morning- it really wasn't surprising the servant wasn't here yet.

He had probably just stopped by his chambers to freshen up after mucking out the stables.

The monarch stood and stretched, moving to the window and taking in the activity of the courtyard below. It gave him a feeling of peace to see his people going about their business; carrying laundry, gossiping with friends, laughing at Gwaine as he told some of his more bawdy tavern tales, turning to look at the barebacked horse that was meandering among the people...

Arthur snapped out of his reverie- that was _his_ horse.

He scanned the crowd with new purpose, looking for a head of dark hair, listening for his servant's embarrassed calls as he chased after the animal; but he neither saw nor heard any indication of the man's presence.

Not sure whether to be furious or concerned, the king rushed from his room- not running, of course, only _servants_ ran inside the castle.

* * *

Feet planted on the flagstone, Arthur searched for his friend once more before taking the gelding in hand; coaxing him along with soft noises and touches in the absence of tack.

The people watched him curiously as he lead the horse, eyes continually searching for the person who should have been doing this instead.

"Merlin!"

The shout was so commonplace in Camelot that even the horse didn't start at the tone or volume.

Worry was threatening to win out, but Arthur forcefully pushed it back, trying his hardest to be angry as he approached the small stables set aside for royal mounts. It was entirely too quiet for his liking, no muttered curses or absent-minded humming issuing forth from the open doorway.

The king turned the corner almost hesitantly and the small amount of ire he'd built up was lost immediately.

Merlin lay on a pile of clean straw, eyes closed, a large black and blue lump forming on his forehead and a small stream of scarlet trickling from the corner of his mouth.

Abruptly forgetting the horse, which chose to walk sedately back into its stall through the freely swinging gate, Arthur knelt beside his servant.

"Didn't you learn your lesson last time you fell asleep in here, Merlin?"  
He asked, nervously checking for signs of life.

The servant groaned and the king was quick to compose himself- on the outside, at least.

"Arthur?" He mumbled, blinking owlishly and screwing up his lips as if he had a bad taste in his mouth.

"Merlin, what happened?"

The man had just noticed the liquid congealing on his face and wiped it off with his neckerchief, the new addition nearly imperceptible on the red fabric.

"I- I don't know." He said, brow creasing slightly with confusion.

Arthur nodded.  
"That's normal." He would know, between his own experiences and those of his men.  
"Come on, let's get you to Gaius." He reached forward to help his servant to stand.

"What?" Merlin looked at the proffered hand. "No, I'm fine, really. Just a bump."  
He probed it gently, not quite managing to contain a hiss of pain.

"Merlin, am I going to have to order you? I'd think you'd jump at the chance for a break from your duties."

The other man grinned at him and reached forward to accept the helping hand, but as the two touched Merlin's face flashed with a strange expression that seemed to cycle through fear, pain, and inexplicable anger before settling on confusion.

The servant swayed on his feet, flinging out a hand to brace himself against the stone wall.  
"I don't- I think something's wrong with me. Maybe I _should_ go to Gaius..."

He seemed to be mumbling to himself, but Arthur answered regardless.  
"That's just as well since I wasn't going to give you a choice."

The king steered his wobbling servant back through the courtyard and up the winding stairs to the court physician's chambers.

"Gaius!" He called, shooting Merlin an apologetic look when the man flinched at the loud noise.

"How can I help you, Sire- Merlin! What have you gotten into this time?"

The man shrugged, cradling his head. "I don't remember."

Arthur considered the situation.  
"He was in the stables and my gelding was loose- perhaps he kicked the gate into Merlin when he opened the stall to clean?"

The servant nodded slowly. "That may be it..."

"Well there's no sense standing around talking about it- sit here and let me have a look."

Merlin grinned at him.  
"Yes, Gaius."

"Right. Well I'll leave you to it. Merlin- you have the rest of the day off, make sure you let Gaius treat you. I don't think I could take it if you became even _more_ of an idiot."

"Of course. Thank you, Arthur." The servant's eyes twinkled as the king swept from the room, intent on finding some lunch.

* * *

Arthur, fully expecting Merlin to sleep in the next morning, had another servant wake him bright and early and thus was sitting at his desk when the other man came through the door with breakfast in hand.

"Oh! Good morning, Sire! I wasn't supposed to come early today, was I?"

The king surveyed his friend. He appeared to be in fine health- apart from the lump and accompanying bruise, which was even more violently colored than the previous day.

"No, you're on time. I just wasn't expecting you. Are you sure you should be up and about?"

Merlin looked incredulous.  
"You only gave me _yesterday_ off- and I told you before: I'm fine. Nothing to worry about. Here, I've brought your breakfast."

The servant stepped forward to place the food-laden tray on the desk, but right before he managed to do so his arm jerked wildly, splattering the sumptuous breakfast all over the floor.

Merlin stared at the mess in shock.  
"How did _that_ happen?"

Arthur, who had been about to comment on the man's ever-increasing clumsiness, looked at him searchingly.

"Perhaps you should go back and have Gaius take another look at you."

The servant shook himself and plastered a smile on his face.  
"No need for that- just a twitch. You know me, I'm a clumsy oaf..."  
He chuckled weakly and began to shuffle toward the door.  
"I'll just fetch another breakfast for you then."

He turned and dashed out the door before the king could protest.

* * *

"There's something wrong with him, Gaius. He keeps on having these 'twitches'; dropping things, tripping more than usual, walking into walls and door frames- surely there's something you can do?"

He hated the way his voice sounded like he was pleading- even if that _was_ the case.

The physician sighed and shook his head.  
"I don't know what to do with him, Sire. He refuses to take any of the potions I offer him and he hardly sleeps or eats. We may have to take drastic measures."  
Old eyes looked at the king, one snowy eyebrow threatening to rise.

"What do you suggest?" His voice was filled with trepidation.

"Well, it'd probably be best if you could get him alone..."

* * *

"You know you don't have to stand on ceremony when it's just the two of us, Merlin. Come over here, have a drink, maybe it'll calm these tremors of yours."  
The king tried to sound nonchalant, lounging in his chair as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening and the wine _wasn't_ laced with a powerful sedative.

"Oh, but if I were in front of you it would be much more difficult to take you by surprise."

Arthur didn't know what shocked him more- the chilling venom in his servant's voice, or the sudden presence of a blue neckerchief cutting off his air supply.

He only remained frozen for a moment, however, before instinct and training came into play as he began clawing at his attacker, trying to escape his disadvantageous seated position.

However, Merlin- or his doppelganger- seemed to be possessed of unnatural strength; holding the blond in place and managing to dodge his grasping hands.  
Then the cold voice whispered in his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

"How does it feel, Pendragon? I had hoped the poison would get you, so you would know something of what it felt like to burn- but this is good too. So... personal."

He could hear a cruel grin in the tone and was glad he couldn't see his friend's face twisted so.

"Who-?" One word was all his battered throat and dwindling breath could manage.

His would-be murderer drew back slightly and responded in an all-too-innocent voice.  
"Don't you know your own manservant, Sire? And here I thought we were close."

Sensing the other man's shift in position, Arthur sent up a silent apology and threw his head back, smashing it into the lump on his attacker's head.  
There was a pained cry as the pressure on his neck eased.

The king spent several moments gasping for breath, during which time Merlin managed to gather himself.

"Arthur?" He cried in a broken, horror-stricken voice.

It was at this point that Gaius chose to enter with barely a knock.  
"Sire, is everything- what is going on here?"

Merlin let out an hysterical giggle and promptly passed out.

* * *

"What is this, Gaius? What's happened to him?"

"I'm not sure, Sire, but it seems to be some form of possession."  
The elder responded, not even looking up from the book he was studying.

"Well how do we fix it?"

"That depends on how it was done. Did you notice anything unusual when you found Merlin in the stables?"

"I hardly... no, wait..." There was something he had found vaguely amiss... something he had dismissed in the urgency of the moment.  
"Yes. When I found him, there was something red dripping from his mouth. I had assumed it was blood at the time, but thinking back on it now it wasn't quite the right color- in fact, it matched perfectly with his neckerchief when he wiped it off."

"He used his scarf?"

The physician's intense gaze took the king aback.

"Yes. Why does that matter?"

With vigor beyond his years, Gaius sprang from the bench and up the stairs to his ward's room.  
"If this was caused by a potion, and I happened to get a sample of it, I may be able to make one to counteract its effects."

Arthur heard the shuffling of feet and objects as the old man searched the servant's small room.

"And if there's _any_ of Merlin left, he won't have washed that scarf- and it should be around here... ah!"

Gaius emerged, triumphantly waving his prize: a red scarf with a patch of slightly differently-colored potion staining it. He settled back on his bench, flipping pages with renewed purpose before landing on the article he was looking for.

"This method of possession is powerful, and more difficult to detect than some others, but it has one major weakness- the administrator has to be nearby to possess their victim- and while they exert control they are vulnerable; nearly unconscious, in fact."

"So all I have to do is find this _filth_, wake him up, and Merlin will be free?"  
He cast a glance over to the patient bed where the man in question lay, bound and oblivious to his surroundings as he muttered incoherently and occasional spasms wracked his frame.

The elder nodded. "As long as I can get him to drink the antidote."

"Good. You prepare your potion and I will find the one who did this."

Arthur hadn't quite made it out the door when Gaius called out to him.  
"Make sure you don't kill them, Sire. If you do their consciousness will remain in Merlin's body."

The king nodded solemnly. "I will take the utmost care, Gaius."

As the door closed, the physician smiled slightly to himself.  
"I'm sure you will, Arthur."

* * *

The king stalked the corridors of his castle, listening at doors and inspecting each room, every sheltered space.

After several minutes of finding no one aside from a pair of servants indulging in a secret tryst, Arthur growled in frustration, pulling at his hair.  
"Where are you?" He seethed, then stilled as soft muttering reached his ears, emanating from a nearby tapestry.

The monarch strode forward and flung the heavy cloth aside, revealing an alcove just deep enough to contain the reclining form of a middle-aged man- the source of the muttering. Arthur grabbed the man's shoulders and shook him, noting the heavy sweat upon the brow pinched in concentration.

The words were a bit clearer now and the king nearly slapped himself- of _course_ he was a sorcerer.  
He really should have foreseen that.

This new knowledge making him a bit more cautious, Arthur unsheathed his sword and poised it over the man's chest before leaning forward to slap the sorcerer awake.

Before he could do so, however, the man jerked violently and sat up; pinning the blade between himself and the wall.  
The king stared in horror as the sorcerer impaled himself through the heart and fell back dead.

"No!"

* * *

Meanwhile Merlin was struggling against his bonds strongly enough to nearly knock over the cot he was tied to.

"Let me go!" He shouted with a voice uncharacteristically full of ire.

Gaius tried his hardest to ignore the continued threats and pleas of his beloved surrogate son- no, this was not Merlin speaking. He shook himself and returned to the antidote he was brewing.

"Please, Gaius. Don't you love me? I thought we were family!"

This sort of attack, delivered in a pained tone, was the most difficult for the physician to endure, but he continued on nevertheless.

Suddenly Merlin froze, his body going rigid before relaxing entirely.

Gaius hesitated, unsure if this was a new tactic or if something was actually happening to his ward.  
"Merlin?"

Receiving no reply, the elder shuffled closer to the bed and placed a hand on his boy's face.  
"Merlin, can you hear me?"

Just then his potion began bubbling- a sign of its completion.  
With rising hope, Gaius removed the flask from the flame and poured it into a cup of cool water.

"Here, Merlin. Drink this and everything will be fine."

The physician reached forward and lifted the warlock's head just as his eyes snapped open, glowing gold.

The elder didn't even have time to cry out before he was flung across the room, potion smashed on the floor and leaking between the boards.

A dark chuckle escaped the pale lips as the ropes untied themselves and Merlin's body rose from the bed.

"Don't bother getting up _old man_. It won't end well for you."

Gaius felt his heart seize at the coldness of the voice and found himself paralyzed in fear as he stared into soulless black eyes.

* * *

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted as he burst through the door, chest heaving and heart pounding.

"Ah, the Pendragon. How nice of you to come to me."  
One pale hand shot up and a wave of force pinned the king against the wall as Merlin's face contorted into a feral grin.  
"So kind of you to give me full access to this body- it's not bad, being young again- and now I can use my magic to kill you."

Arthur shuddered at the evil parody of Merlin that stood before him, smiling cruelly and talking about killing him with magic.

"Merlin, you need to fight him!"  
The king hoped with all his might that his friend was still in there somewhere.

Black eyes glinted as the sorcerer threw Merlin's head back and laughed.  
"That fool will never again have control. Oh, I admit, he did make a nuisance of himself before- dropping the poisoned food, tripping me up so I couldn't stab you in the back- but it was only a matter of time before his resistance was worn down."

He clapped his hands in delight.  
"And you were so _trusting!_ When I chose your servant it was merely for convenience, but now I see that having him kill you will be particularly sweet revenge."

Arthur would have protested that he had done nothing to this man, but he knew it never made a difference.  
In the minds of the enemies of Camelot, he and his father were the same, united in their persecution of magic and those who possessed it.

For a moment the king felt hopeless and closed his eyes to accept his oncoming death; but then he remembered the appearance of the sorcerer when he came upon him. The man had clearly been struggling to maintain his influence over the manservant.

Surely Merlin hadn't given up his struggling, despite the sorcerer's assertions that he was in complete control- after all, the idiot may just be the most stubborn person Arthur knew.

Opening his eyes, the monarch observed the figure before him more thoroughly.

He noticed a tenseness in his stance that didn't fit with the man's projected confidence, and a lack of grace in his movements that went beyond the servant's casual clumsiness.

Merlin was still fighting.

"Merlin! I know you're in there! You can do it- kick him out! Please, Merlin, I don't want to hurt you!"  
_Or be hurt by you..._

"Your feeble attempts are useless. But don't worry, I'll put you out of your misery. **A-**"

Merlin's head jerked and his eyes flashed gold before he dropped to the floor, convulsing as blood flowed from his nose and ears.

Arthur, released from the restraining magic, leapt forward and tried to hold his friend still.  
"Gaius! Help him!"

The physician, shaking off his paralysis, also came forward to aid his ward.  
He was about to issue instructions when a deep-voiced incantation flowed from Merlin's lips.

"**Ic þín sáwol hér beluce, abide þæt ic þé álíese.****"**

Rolling onto his side, the warlock coughed and his stomach heaved, bringing up a small, translucent red gem that glinted despite the lack of direct light.

Gaius and Arthur looked on in confusion as the servant stilled and the gem began to glow softly.

"Is he-"

"He's just sleeping, though I fear he may have damaged himself greatly."

"What do you mean? What just happened Gaius?"

"Merlin appears to have thrown off the sorcerer's control, an effort that could have killed him."

The king looked at his friend in concern.

"What about this... stone?"

The physician grabbed a cloth off his workbench- Merlin's stained neckerchief- and used it to gingerly pick up the red rock.

"I believe, Sire, that this is the remains of what caused this situation." He paused for a moment, composing a believable story that didn't involve Merlin having magic.

"When Merlin's body rejected the sorcerer's soul, it seems he cast a spell to bind it within the potion that was still flowing in the blood. That way his spirit would be contained rather than dispersed. Merlin's body then rid itself of the foreign substance which took the form you see here."

"So you're saying the sorcerer is still alive- in that rock."

"I think so, Sire."

"So how do we dispose of it?"

Gaius prodded at the gem through the cloth and nodded in satisfaction.  
"Luckily, it doesn't seem to be very stable so this should do."

He tied the stone up in the neckerchief, swung it around a few times, and smashed it against the stone wall with a sound like shattering glass. Stepping toward the hearth, he tossed the whole bundle into the flames and watched it disappear in a puff of orange sparks.

"Ah." Not knowing what else to say, Arthur settled for a weak joke.  
"You know, Merlin won't appreciate having another of his scarves burnt."

"I think he'd make an exception in this case, Sire."

"I suspect you're right."

* * *

The king remained by his servant's bedside throughout the night and well into the next day before leaning forward when the eyelids began to flutter; grasping one pale hand and smiling in relief as the eyes looking back at him shone clear, pure, and blue.

"Arthur." The voice was weak but warm and relieved.

"Merlin. Nice to have you back."  
Arthur was still grinning widely, not even trying to suppress the urge.

"I will always come back to you, Arthur. Always."


	33. Sweet Revenge

A/N: My hands are so cold! If only I had a laptop I could snuggle up under my blankets and write in bed.  
Anyway, this one's for Rehabilitated Sith. Not as much fun as my imagination, but my inner vision was entirely too crack-ish and ridiculous.

bittersweet x: Thank you! That's very kind of you to say :)

Maybe "Rambo" next time? I just don't know anymore...

* * *

"Oh, I am _so _sorry, Sire."

Arthur wiped some of the pie filling from his eye and glared at the servant.  
The tone of his apology had been as sarcastic as ever, though he was now putting on his look of apprehensive innocence.

Kneeling on the floor, Merlin began to scoop up the mess.

"Merlin?"

"Yes, Sire?"

"Don't you think there's something _else_ you should be doing first?"

The servant cocked his head at his master as if he honestly didn't know what that something could possibly be.

The king pointed to the globs of dessert slowly dripping off his chin.

"Ah! Of course, right away, _my lord_."

Merlin reached forward to begin wiping the food remains from Arthur's face, purple neckerchief in hand.

_Purple_ neckerchief.

The blond head jerked back just before the fabric could reach his skin.  
"Not that Merlin, use anything else, just not _that_ neckerchief."

The younger man looked at him quizzically.  
"What do you mean _'that'_ neckerchief? It's one you gave me, Arthur. This is the first time I've worn it!"

"Just- get something else."  
He remembered giving the scarf to Merlin, and he remembered what he heard afterward...

Shaking his head, the servant turned to find another rag, preferably a dirty one.

"Then I want you to draw me a bath and set out fresh clothes."

"I'll get right to that, _Sire_."

"And get me another dessert."

"You know, this is why I keep having to add holes to your belt."

"Shut up, Merlin."

* * *

As Arthur stepped behind the screen to change, Merlin once again appeared in the king's chambers with a sugary confection for the monarch's delight- this time a small cake with thick icing.

The first time it had happened, the gangly arm had given a sudden jerk and sent the pie flying into the blond's unsuspecting face.  
_This_ time Merlin tripped fantastically and _smashed_ the cake against Arthur's nose and mouth as he stepped out from behind the changing screen.

Frosted face resigned, the king regarded his servant, who was now avoiding his gaze.

"Merlin, do you have something you want to say to me?"

"I'm sorry, Arthur. It's just that I've been experiencing these... _aftereffects_ from my... from my possession."  
He shuffled his feet as if ashamed.

Arthur immediately felt guilty. Still a bit suspicious, but guilty nonetheless.  
"Oh. I- I'm sorry."

"There's nothing for you to apologize for, Sire."

The king felt a bit awkward and spent a few moments staring at the cake now adorning the floor before trying for a bit of humor to lighten the mood.

He sighed dramatically and lamented "why did it have to be the _dessert_ that fell prey to your legendary clumsiness?"

Merlin couldn't quite hold back his smirk.  
"I'm sure I wouldn't know, Sire."

But as he turned from the room to retrieve another serving, he whispered to himself:  
"because revenge is supposed to be sweet."


	34. Geronimo

A/N: Many many thanks to my lovely reviewers! Honestly, I was a bit disappointed "Black Magic" got so few- was it just because I posted "Sweet Revenge" so close to it or did you guys just not like it as much? Logically I know I'm probably just being sensitive; I feel a bit more attached to it since it's three times the length of most of my chapters and I spent more time trying out and discarding/adapting ideas for it- but logic does not work against feelings :/ .

Talking about story's that have changed a lot from their initial conception- this one.  
So many changes both minor and major to wind up with this silly little piece.  
It was originally going to be Gwen and Arthur, but they got to do this on the show so I decided to pick another couple.  
From there infinite possibilities stretched out depending on who was chosen (second choice was Gaius and Alice).  
That's right, so many ways this tale could have gone and my fingers typed this one ^_~.

Guest reviewer: I love you :) I have a special fondness for people who start reading late in a story but still review individual chapters instead of just waiting until the latest. And yes, chapter 33 was Merlin's revenge for the events of 31.

Anyway, here are some more words for your perusal!

(Next time, the fic formerly known as "Rambo" now more appropriately named "Zip It")

* * *

Gwaine gazed adoringly into the eyes of his beloved.  
This was _perfect_. The candles, the wine, Merlin in the loft above.  
_Perfect._

Merlin, meanwhile, was fit to burst, his stomach muscles already aching from his desperate attempts to suppress his laughter.  
But this was a favor for a friend, and he would see it through.  
He massaged his cheeks, sore from the outrageously big grin on his face, and waited for Gwaine's signal.

The knight gently caressed his lady's ear and offered her the goblet of wine he had just poured.  
She turned her head away shyly and the man waved his arm surreptitiously.

The servant saw his cue and began sprinkling the flower petals so that they fell over the couple in a gentle shower, making sure none of them landed on the candles.

"Bess."  
Gwaine gently grasped the dark chin and turned her to face him.  
"I have something very important to ask you."

This was Merlin's second cue and he hastily set to work, tying the small box to his green neckerchief and tucking a small bubble of magic into the fabric so that it floated gently down to land in his friend's outstretched palm- the bubble popping on contact.

The rogue pulled the parcel open and offered the ring to his companion.  
"Will you marry me?"

Bess blinked in surprise and turned her head again, feeling bashful.  
Gwaine was about to apologize for his forwardness, but instead felt his heart soaring as Bess glanced back at him and nodded; burying her face in his chest.

Merlin looked down on the two with conflicted feelings.  
It was great to see his friend so genuinely happy, really it was-  
but that didn't mean he'd laugh any less once Gwaine sobered up and realized he'd proposed to a cow.


	35. Zip It

A/N: I'm sorry, Gwaine. I'm constantly using you as the butt of my jokes.  
You know I love you, right?

So tell me, how many of you went back and read that last one again again after seeing the last line?  
Judging by the reviews it would have been hilarious to watch people reading it ^_~

Also, I've posted a poll on my profile- I'd be grateful if you all would provide me with your opinion on what I should write next :)

36 will be "Out Standing in his Field"

* * *

Arthur woke gradually, which pretty much only happened when he'd been knocked out.  
Any other time Merlin was flinging open the curtains and dragging him out of bed or Gwaine was rousing the whole camp as rudely as possible in revenge for having last watch.

Looking about him he noticed the cell was rather more welcoming than what he typically found himself in- not a single rat in sight and it even had a large window. It was barred just enough to keep him from slipping through, but a window nonetheless.

Now that he looked he realized he wasn't even chained, just tied with a bit of rope- which he quickly set about loosening with his teeth.

He didn't really remember much aside from being out hunting with Merlin and sending the klutz out to collect firewood. He gave grudging respect to whomever had managed to come upon him unawares.

Hands now free, he checked his head for signs of a wound and found only a small lump.  
Clearly his captors were much more generous than the norm.

Untying the bindings around his ankles, he rose to his feet and looked out the window.  
No hope of escape from there, even without the bars.

He was clearly up in a tower of some sort, a tower that was perched on a low cliff overlooking a forest.  
Even with his considerable skill he doubted he'd be able to safely scale such a great expanse of stone and rock without being spotted and shot down.

Footsteps echoed in the corridor outside the wooden door and the king was quick to work his way up the wall; bracing himself so he was suspended above the doorway.

The lock clicked and a tall man in dark leathers slipped into the room, taking in the empty space before looking upward.

"Ah, there you are- come on down so we can get out of here."

Even in the unfamiliar clothes it was easy to recognize his idiot manservant, despite attempting to hide his identity with the red scarf tied about his face.

"Did you honestly expect to fool anyone with that piteous disguise? That rag is almost as recognizable as your face anyway." Arthur said, dropping to the floor.

Merlin shrugged.  
"Worked well enough against the mercenaries. No one even questioned me."

"Probably the only reason you're still alive since you can't lie to save your life."

"Maybe not, but it wasn't really _my_ life I was worried about."

The king was about to interject when the servant spoke over him.  
"Now, if you'd stand back, Sire?"

Arthur was so surprised to be overruled that he moved without question and Merlin leaned back a bit before kicking the bars out of the window with hardly any apparent effort.

The monarch gaped at him.

Merlin, meanwhile, had retrieved a coil of rope from the hallway and unslung a bow from his shoulder before tying the rope to an arrow and nocking it.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked, incredulous.

"Making good our escape." He replied nonchalantly as he took aim at the forest below.

"Merlin, I know you're rather inexperienced in rescues so let me offer some advice: this isn't a good idea."

The pale man rolled his eyes.  
"Relax Arthur, I know what I'm doing."

He let the arrow fly, only having to nudge it a bit with his mind before manipulating the rope into a strong knot around a sturdy tree.

"And what was _that_ supposed to accomplish? Even if you managed to hit a tree there's no way it'll support even _your_ insubstantial weight."

"Arthur." He turned to face his master, projecting confidence and calm in his voice.  
"_I know what I'm doing_, trust me. I have a... _friend_ in the forest who has caught the arrow and tied the rope around a tree. Then we'll attach it at our end and slide down. Here, you can test it yourself if you like."

The king stepped forward and tugged on the rope, which didn't budge.

"And how do I know you didn't just impale this 'friend' of yours and the arrow will pop out as soon as we put our weight on it?"

"Really Arthur?" He sighed. "Don't worry about it, my eyesight is as good as that of my namesake"  
_Better, actually... _"I can clearly see him signaling me from here."

The blond looked dubious as he surveyed the green expanse below.  
"How could you _possibly-"_

"Look, Sire, I'd love to go back and forth with you over this; but we really do need to get out of here before someone notices."  
He took up the loose end of the rope and secured it to the cell door.

"Now, are you going to go down first or shall I?"

"Merlin, I don't think I- I mean, there's no way _you_ can climb all the way down without killing yourself."

"Who said anything about climbing?" Merlin grinned at him.

"What?"

"Here, I'll show you. I'll use my neckerchief, but you'll have to take off your belt or something- just loop it over the rope and slide all the way down. Quick and easy- you may even enjoy it!"

Arthur eyed the rope with mounting trepidation.  
"You expect me to- slide- all the way down there with my belt."  
His voice was too flat to really be considered questioning.

"Don't tell me you're frightened, Highness? I'm sure your superior reflexes will allow you to avoid crashing into anything at the bottom."

"Of course I'm not frightened, _idiot_." But truthfully he was so unnerved he found it difficult to formulate further excuses.

"If I go first, will that be enough to convince you it's safe? I don't want to have to climb all the way back up here to retrieve you if you can't follow."

The tone was enough to spur Arthur into action and he removed his belt, stepping up to the rope and preparing to drop to his death.  
"Surely you know there's nothing I can't do, Merlin- and infinitely better than yourself, I might add."

"So that means you'll be doing your own chores from now on?"

"Shut up, Merlin."

Arthur held his belt in a white-knuckled grip, steeled himself, then jumped from the window.

The descent was much quicker than he expected and he soon found himself heading into the trees at high speed. Panicking a bit, he kicked his legs forward and nearly bit his tongue as they jarred against the trunk of a tree to halt his fall.

Hearing his fool of a friend whooping behind him he hastily moved out of the way.

Rather than crashing into the tree, Merlin chose to drop to the ground just before reaching the end of the line, landing in an ungraceful heap but quickly regaining his feet.

"Well, now that they've undoubtedly heard your girlish screaming, we'd best beat a hasty retreat- where's this friend of yours?"

"I was _hardly_ screaming, Arthur, just having a bit of fun. And my friend left- probably too nervous about meeting royalty; or too impatient to wait while you gathered your courage."

"Merlin, if you _ever_-"

"I understand, Sire. I'll not speak of this again."

_Much._ He thought to himself.


	36. Out Standing in His Field

A/N: According to ff's word count the last oneshot had 1,337 words :)

Nance: *facepalm* I completely forgot when I typed it up, but I was originally going to have it wear through at the bottom (so Merlin would've fallen unintentionally rather than on purpose). Perhaps I'll go back and fix that later, while trying to preserve the word count, of course.

I liked Book girl fan's guess so I stuck in a little something extra for it :)

This one turned out a bit weird- probably because of the distinct lack of Hunith in the actual show and my resultant uncertainty in portraying her (she got a bit unruly here)

Next time: "Something to Hide"

* * *

Farming had never been a favorite pursuit of his, but every once in a while Merlin found it... _therapeutic_.  
It was nice to feel a connection to the land, to take part in producing life-giving food for his mother and former neighbors.  
And so he found himself in the village's common plot; weeding, watering, and harvesting.

The sun was just beginning to top the trees as Merlin reached the center of the little field and he took a moment to rest, setting down his basket of wheat and leaning up against the scarecrow.

Arthur Pendragon himself had helped plant the straw man after Kanan's attack left the previous one in a shambles.  
The scarecrow was dressed in a set of Merlin's clothing from his early teenage years, identical to his current garb down to the neckerchief.

The then-prince had joked that the mannequin filled the clothes out better than the servant did.  
He had also carved a ridiculous looking face on the turnip he'd used as a head and proclaimed it 'looked better than the original'.

Thankfully that turnip had long since rotted, but his mother had replaced it with a similarly carved lump of wood.

"Excuse me." He said, before wiping the sweat from his brow onto the scarecrow's neckerchief.

"Talking to your doppelganger?"

The warlock spun to see his mother approaching, hair flying in wild tangles due to the morning's wind.

"Good morning, mother. What are you doing out here? I told you I'd take care of our share of the work today."  
He smiled despite his light attempt at reprimanding her.

She beamed back at him.  
"I know you did, but that doesn't mean I can't come out to see you, does it? Here, I brought you something to fill your stomach until breakfast is ready."

Hunith handed him an apple and leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek- only to have her hair blow into her eyes and mouth.

Eyes laughing at her indignant expression, Merlin gently brushed the dark locks aside and kissed her himself.

"What happened to your head scarf?"

The older woman waved her hand dismissively.  
"Oh, you know, it just wore out. Haven't had the opportunity to replace it yet."

"Well then, here."  
He took the blue cloth from around his own neck- thankfully freshly laundered only an hour or two ago- and tied it lovingly about his mother's head, tucking in the stray brunette tresses as he went.

"Oh, Merlin, I couldn't-"

"Just accept it, mother. Please allow me to do at least this one small thing for you."

"You know you do much more for me than that, my boy. Not that you have to."

"But I want to. I love you, mum."

"And I love you, Merlin."

The two stood in the field for several moments, simply holding each other and basking in the time together, before reluctantly parting to continue their chores for the day.

"I'll have the morning meal ready by the time you're done. Be sure to bring in some wheat so I can make bread for lunch."

"Of course I will, so long as you break out that jar of preserves I saw in the cupboard."  
He grinned at her, knowing she must have gotten it with this visit in mind- preserves were a favorite of his.

"And what makes you think I'm going to share those, hm?" She taunted.

Hitching an eyebrow, Merlin leaned forward. "Well I suppose I could always... force it out of you!"  
He snatched Hunith up in his arms and began twirling her around in the air.

"Stop! Stop! I'm getting dizzy!" She laughed and clutched at his shoulders, causing the man to lose his balance and sending the pair to the ground in a giggling heap.

"Mother, you're squashing me!" Merlin protested, his grin wider than ever.

"Shame on you, saying such a thing to your mother!" She tweaked his nose and sat up.  
"Now back to work with you, and clean up before you come in to eat- you're a mess!"

"And whose fault is that?" He called after her.

"You've no one to blame but yourself, Merlin!"

He wanted to protest, but wisely decided to just give up.  
He may be the most powerful warlock to ever walk the earth, but he was no match for Hunith.


	37. Something to Hide

A/N: Oooo... only five more chapters 'til the end! I admit it, I'm stressing a bit about the last one since I only have the vaguest idea of how I want that story to go.  
Oh well, it'll work out. I may even ask for some suggestions/requests for it- though I definitely want to have the neckerchief used as a towel (to complete the theme).  
We'll see, we'll see...

If I had been a bit quicker on the uptake I would have saved 'Geronimo' for today, but once again my timing was slightly less than impeccable.  
Oh well, at least this one isn't completely devoid of lovin'...  
(Happy Valentine's Day!)

Chapter 38... "Pieced Together", perhaps?

* * *

Merlin straightened with a groan, his aching ribs protesting every move. He rubbed the back of his neck in a vain attempt to ease the crick in it, making sure to resettle his neckerchief snug against the skin before flipping the collar of his jacket back up.

The chill in the air had increased the stiffness that had plagued him the previous day and sleeping on the forest floor certainly hadn't helped.

"So when is this hunting trip going to end, exactly?" He asked his master, making sure the pair of visiting nobles was out of earshot before speaking.

"It'll end once we've caught enough for a proper feast, which would happen a lot sooner if you could refrain from tripping over your own two feet every time we catch sight of something."

"Sorry" the servant muttered, dropping his gaze respectfully "I'll try to do better."

Arthur lowered his eyebrows in a look of vague concern and puzzlement.  
"Merlin, is there someth-"

"Sire! Lord Cuthall has spotted a stag!"

Casting a parting glance at his oddly-behaving manservant, the king turned to follow his fellow hunters.

"Come along, Merlin, and have my crossbow ready."

* * *

They had followed the stag to a clearing where it was now grazing unawares, the four having paired off and taken up separate posts along the edge.

As Arthur crouched beside Merlin, a suspicious sound of tearing fabric rent the air.  
The royal froze.

"Merlin?"

"Yes, Sire?" The way he raised his eyebrows and pressed his lips together made it obvious he was having difficulty containing his laughter.

"Was that you?"

Nearly shaking with effort, the servant replied with a mostly-straight face.  
"No, Sire. That was, in fact, the sound of your trousers giving out under the strain."

"Well don't just sit there- fix it!"

"And what do you expect me to do about it here?"

"I don't know... isn't this the sort of situation where you would usually pull out one of your ridiculous scarves and use it as a patch or something?"

Arthur sensed Merlin stiffen beside him before replying in an ever-so-slightly nervous tone.  
"Do you really _want_ a bright red patch drawing attention to the hole?"

Grudgingly, he conceded the point.  
"I suppose not..."

"It'll be fine once you're standing, it'll hardly show and your coat will cover it nicely."

"Yes, _thank you_ for the reassurance, _Mer_lin. You've been _ever_ so helpful."

"I live but to serve, Highness."

Arthur rolled his eyes.  
"And if you think I believe _that_-"

A victory cry resounded in the clearing and one of the lords was approaching the now-collapsed prey.

"Great! Now I've missed my shot at the first kill."

Merlin mumbled another apology before reclaiming the loaded crossbow and following the monarch out from their hiding place.

* * *

The rest of the day passed largely uneventfully apart from Arthur taking down a boar that rivaled the morning's stag. Merlin felt this was more than enough for a single feast and told Arthur so in hushed tones as he handed out the evening's stew.

"So will we be going back in the morning?"

"Not right away, Lord Heath obtained a new sparrowhawk in town and he'd like to try flying it tomorrow. We'll head back after he's satisfied."

The servant tried not to show his displeasure.  
He'd noticed the bird's presence, of course, as he had been responsible for its care- but he had hoped the lords would be too eager to return to the comforts of the castle to dally any further. Looks like he was doomed to disappointment.

"Of course, Sire." He murmured, then moved off to continue passing out the bowls of food.

The king watched him a few moments, then gave up and tucked into his dinner.

* * *

The morning was fair and clear, much to Merlin's vexation.  
If it had rained, this little exercise in falconry would have been called off.

Lord Heath motioned imperiously and Merlin brought the sparrowhawk forward, still contained in the wooden cage it had been purchased in.  
The noble swung open the door and lured the bird onto his leather-sheathed arm, the raptor dancing about uncertainly.

Merlin noticed the animal's discomfort and tried to silently communicate his observations to the oblivious man before him.

Lord Heath, not even sparing the servant a second glance, promptly withdrew the bird from its confines and attempted to send it after a splotch of black and white in the sky nearby- likely a magpie. The bird, contrary to its own instincts, gripped the noble's arm tightly and spread its wings for balance as it cried in protest.  
The man flapped his arm a few times before accepting the animal wasn't going anywhere.

Trying to cover his embarrassment, Heath began yelling at Merlin.  
"Servant! Where is the hood I asked you to bring? Can't you see she's spooked?"

Merlin knew better than to protest that he had received no such request.  
"I'm sorry m'lord. One moment, please."

Arthur saw his fingers twitch toward his neck before he spun on his heel and returned to his horse, fetching a spare neckerchief.

"There, girl, it's alright..." he crooned soft reassurances to the bird as he tied the dark blue fabric securely about her head, blocking the offensive humans from her sight.

Now hooded, the raptor relaxed her talons and wings; allowing the lord to stuff her back in the coop.

"Well, _that_ one could clearly do with more training! I shall be having words with that merchant."  
Lord Heath blustered, shoving the cage into Merlin's hands.

Diplomat that he was, Arthur quickly drew attention away from what had just happened by changing the subject.

"Right. Well, let's head back to camp and pack up, shall we? Then we can get back to the citadel and have ourselves a celebration!"  
He smiled to relieve the tension and started the procession back to the campsite.

* * *

Merlin had just started refilling the water skins when he heard someone coming down the steep bank behind him.  
Turning about warily, he found himself confronted by Lords Heath and Cuthall; both grinning in an unfriendly manner.

"You made me look bad today, _servant_. You shall pay for that."

Said servant was considering fleeing when a hand darted out to grip his neck, removing that particular option from the playing field.

Heath squeezed his throat with bruising force while Cuthall yanked his arm up behind his back in a much rougher implementation of a move Arthur had once used against him.

Despite his better judgment Merlin tried to protest, but the choke hold prevented the words from escaping.  
The warlock's thoughts flashed back to an event from two days ago, back in Camelot.

He had been responsible for delivering Heath's morning meal, which he promptly spilled down the front of the man's expensive clothing.

It was relatively understandable when the man had flown into a rage, grabbed him by the throat and shoved him up against the wall.  
After all, Arthur had warned him the visiting nobles were known for their short tempers.

In that incident, however, the man had merely yelled a bit before releasing him- something that seemed unlikely in the current situation.

Well this time he wasn't going to put up with it.  
The warlock dipped his head down to hide the flash of his eyes as he whispered a sleeping spell.  
"**Swe-"**

SNAP

Merlin's vision seemed to explode into stars and black spots as his arm broke.  
He was vaguely aware of the hand disappearing from his neck- probably to gesture at the other man.

"You idiot! He's not going to be able to hide _this!_"

"I- I'm sorry, Heath."

"Well that's hardly going to help anything, now is it? What are we-"

Merlin didn't know what had interrupted the lord's diatribe, but felt this was a good time to re-attempt his spell before the continued wrenching of his arm caused him to pass out.

Unfortunately, the fact that he had again lowered his gaze meant he never saw the rock coming toward his head.

* * *

The two lords carried the slight man back up the bank and then pushed him down it, watching him bump and roll in satisfaction.

"Now, you take this" Heath handed his conspirator the bloody rock "and plant it on the hill. I'll go inform the king there's been an _unfortunate accident_."

* * *

Merlin woke briefly during the trip home, only slightly aware of an arm across his chest and a horse beneath him before returning to blissful unconsciousness.

When he next came to the familiar sight and sounds of Gaius' chambers greeted him.

"Gaius, he's awake again."

_Arthur?_

He turned his head and groaned at the pain.  
"Arthur? Gaius? What happened?"

The king rolled his eyes as if he were tired of repeating himself.  
"It seems you slipped and fell. Hit your head, broke your arm, bruised some ribs. This is the fourth time I've told you- think you'll remember this time?"

Merlin's forehead wrinkled in confusion.  
"What?"

"You were injured yesterday, you've woken a few times but kept trying to get up so Gaius has been dosing you with sleeping draughts."

Said physician then appeared, vial in hand.  
"How are you feeling, Merlin?"

"Confused? I don't remember waking up before..." a memory resurfaced, prompting him to ask "Are Heath and Cuthall still here?"

Arthur's eyes hardened, though Merlin didn't understand why- perhaps he should have used their titles?

"They left yesterday after the feast."  
The royal gave Gaius a meaningful look and the old man excused himself, leaving the vial in his ward's grasp.

"Take that when you want to go back to sleep." He said as he slipped through the door.

Arthur contemplated the invalid in silence for a moment.  
"Merlin, why didn't you use the neckerchief you were wearing?"

"What?" Now he was _really _confused.

"Yesterday, when you hooded the bird. Why didn't you use the scarf you were wearing?"

The servant shifted uncomfortably.  
"Well, blue was better than red, right? Darker and all... plus my spare was nearby anyway and I would have just had to use it to replace the one I was wearing so why not skip the middle-man?"

Arthur had largely ignored the rambling excuse, eyes growing sorrowful.  
"We took it off, Merlin."

His eyes widened.  
"What?" He was saying that entirely too much lately.

The king huffed.  
"Merlin, I've seen the bruises. Bruises that were _clearly_ made by someone's hands around _your_ neck. _Two sets_. Now are you going to tell me the truth or not?"

The servant swallowed thickly, wishing he could just take the sleeping potion and escape this interrogation.

"Fine" he sighed.  
"It was Lord Heath- well, the arm was Cuthall, but Heath was the instigator."

"What?" The word seemed a lot more intimidating when Arthur said it.  
"They broke your arm too?"

"Ah-" maybe he should have skipped that bit?

"Start from the beginning, Merlin."

Now resigned to his fate, the servant told the whole tale up to his sudden loss of awareness at the riverside.

"Those _curs!_ They must have pushed you down the bank themselves! Merlin, why didn't you tell me about this when it first happened?"

"Arthur, you need to calm down. The first time was my fault- you warned me about them and I should have been more careful. As for the second, well, I could hardly tell you about it before now." Merlin noticed the blond was gripping the hilt of his sword with jaw clenched, looking furious.

"Just let it go, Arthur. They're the sort of people who enjoy exerting their power over others and there is little you can do to change that- unless you plan on having them constantly watched."

"They could have _killed_ you, idiot! That's a bit more than 'exerting their power'."

Merlin sighed.  
"They didn't intend to take it that far. I guess they just overestimated the strength of my bones."  
He hoped his joke would lighten the mood despite its weakness- it didn't really work.  
"Keep in mind that you still need their support, Sire."

Arthur was still enraged, but his secret adviser's calm words were beginning to reach him.  
His eyes flicked to the man on the bed and he softened slightly.

"I'll remember that. Now you need to get some more sleep- you have the next several days off to recover."  
He got up, pausing by the door. "And Merlin?"

"Yes, Sire?"

"Next time you _will_ tell me when something like this happens."

* * *

Two weeks later Arthur was unceremoniously ripped from slumber by bright sunlight and an overly cheerful voice yelling "rise and shine, Your Royal Pratness!"

The king groaned and pulled a pillow over his head as the sounds of breakfast being set out drifted to his ears.  
Suddenly, the significance of the racket penetrated his sleepy brain and he sat up.

"Merlin!"

"In the flesh, Sire."  
The thin man grinned back, his arm in a sling but otherwise appearing completely recovered.

Except for something that was a little bit... _off._

Arthur's eyes narrowed in suspicion.  
"What are you hiding?"

"Whatever do you mean, Sire?"

"Your neckerchief- why do you have it tied so tightly, and so high on your neck?"

The servant put on a vaguely offended look.  
"This is the way I always wear it!"

But the royal persisted.  
"Your bruises should have faded by now so _what are you hiding?_"

Merlin backed away from the imposing figure of the advancing monarch.  
"Honestly, Arthur, it's nothing!"

He would have continued protesting but the blond had reached forward and whipped the concealing fabric away, revealing a few small, roughly circular dark spots peppering the pale neck.

"Merlin, who did this?"

To the king's confusion, the servant blushed a painful shade of red and raised his good arm to rub the back of his head.

"Um... Clara might have visited when she heard I was injured..."

It took a moment for understanding to dawn on the royal's face, but when it did he couldn't believe it.

"So, if I'm interpreting this correctly, you're telling me two things here-"

Merlin looked quizzical.

"First, that there is a woman who is interested in you-" the servant tried to interject but was overruled "and second, that you were taken advantage of by said woman?"

Indignant as he was, Merlin had no comeback to the accusation and had to settle for glaring.

_Next time I'll just buy some face powder._


	38. Pieced Together

A/N: 304 Reviews! Thanks guys! That makes me super happy :D  
So tell me guys, if I started a collection of shorts to fulfill requests would you have some for me?  
I'd like to start another series of one shots after this one, but I'm not entirely certain how well it'd go without prompts or some sort of theme.

Also, if you have any requests right now please let me know- I want to publish the first chapter of my new piece alongside the last chapter of this one.  
(This will be in addition to the ones you voted for in my profile poll.)

Kyrinea struck upon the correct usage :)  
I realize it's somewhat inaccurate for the time period, but I'm okay with that.

Next time: "Memento Mori" (alternate title "Misappropriated")

* * *

"Oh, Merlin!"

"Yes?" The servant turned to see a maid rushing up to him, having to pause and regain her breath before continuing.

"I never appreciated how busy you are until I had to try to get ahold of you!" She exclaimed.

Merlin beamed at her. "Did you need me for something, Maria?"

"You've heard about the wedding, yes?"

His grin widened. "Of course!"  
George himself was soon to be tied to Annabelle- a fellow servant who had once had a crush on Merlin.

"Well, the other servants and I are making them a quilt and we were hoping we could use one of your neckerchiefs as a block- if you have one you can spare..."

It was a bit of a running joke that George had begun wearing a neckerchief and dressing as he did in an attempt to draw Annabelle's attention, assuming Merlin's apparel was part of his charm. Ultimately it had been a shared appreciation of properly polished surfaces that had brought the two together. (Annabelle had been scouring pots and George had shyly given her some tips on making the cookware gleam- how it escalated from there is something known only by the two of them.)

"I think I may be able to do better than that- I'll have something for you tonight."

Merlin took off down the corridor, continuing on his errands while leaving a slightly bemused maid in his wake.

* * *

Having successfully completed his chores early (mainly by avoiding Arthur so he couldn't give him any more); Merlin slipped into his little bedroom and went straight to his cupboard, rustling around a bit before emerging with a stack of worn fabric. He had saved many of his damaged scarves thinking he might one day find a purpose for the usable sections and this seemed like the perfect opportunity.

He just needed a little help with the implementation- and that's where Gwen came in.

Bundle of cloth tucked under his arm, Merlin made his way to the queen's solar knowing she often spent her free time there if Arthur was busy.

"Gwen?"

Guinevere looked up from her embroidery and smiled at her friend.  
"Merlin! Come, sit with me." She saw what he was holding and tilted her head in inquiry.  
"Something I can help you with?"

Merlin smiled at her.  
"The servants are putting together a quilt for George and Annabelle's wedding. I had an idea for my own contribution and was hoping you'd be able to give me some guidance."

The queen beamed, eyes crinkling in pleasure.  
"Well, let's just see what we have here, shall we?"

The two settled down at the table and spent the afternoon talking, planning, cutting, and sewing; eventually producing a finished block amongst laughter and smiles.  
The roughly square piece featured bits of neckerchief cut and rearranged to make a pattern of two interlocking rings atop a varicolored patch background.

"It's lovely." Gwen proclaimed, giving Merlin a side-hug as they sat looking at their finished work.

"Thanks to you." The servant responded.

"Nonsense, it was your idea. Now, you had best deliver this so you can get Arthur his dinner on time- you know how he gets when his food is late."

"Even more insufferable than usual." Merlin laughed before gathering the patchwork and sweeping out the door.

* * *

The maids had all exclaimed over Merlin's contribution and made it the centerpiece of their quilt; a quilt that was now being presented to the lovebirds as they prepared to move into their new home in the lower town.

"This is- I don't know what to say... thank you everyone."  
Annabelle smiled at them all. Recognizing the predominantly blue and red fabric of the central design she winked at Merlin, who gave her a smile and a nod.

George, it seems, had also recognized the origin of said fabric and turned slightly pink as he self-consciously tucked his own red scarf into his red-laced blue tunic and gathered his red-brown jacket about himself.

Merlin gave him a clap on the back (perhaps he _had_ been spending too much time with Arthur) and offered his congratulations.

"Treat her well, George."

"Better than I treat the king himself." The man responded dreamily.

Coming from George, that was really saying something.


End file.
